


Heathen

by dentedsky



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dissidia NT: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VIII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Bartz Klauser, BAMF Cloud Strife, BAMF Rinoa Heartily, Bartz is protective of Cloud, Canon-Typical Violence, Cloud Strife is OP, Fantasy, Hearing Voices, M/M, Past Zack Fair/Cloud Strife, Portals, Possession, Romance, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25477669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentedsky/pseuds/dentedsky
Summary: After the final battle, Cloud gains the ability to portal through the worlds.Naturally, Bartz comes along for the ride.
Relationships: Bartz Klauser/Cloud Strife, Squall Leonhart & Cloud Strife
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: WIP Big Bang Challenge 2020





	1. Thought I was Capable of More

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art For "Heathen"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185414) by [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake). 



> This fic was originally for Small Fandoms Big Bang, but is now being posted for WIP Big Bang because I was slow to finish. It happens. 
> 
> Please see [Cover Art](https://dentedsky.tumblr.com/post/627863432134279168/pennywaltzy-art-for-heathen-by-dentedsky) by afteriwake (Ragna)!
> 
> Whelp, nothing says self indulgence like writing a 40k fic of your rairpair running around like they're in an action film. Not my first foray into action but I admittedly was using this fic for adventure writing practice.

Breath was caught in Cloud’s throat, searing, as he tried to get his bearings. The ground seemed to be crumbling beneath his feet. He shielded his eyes against the bright light from the rumble of flames erupting from Shinryu’s mouth.

Cloud couldn’t believe he was here now, with his friends, fighting this great, giant god.

Bartz grabbed his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he exclaimed, eyes bright with concern. Cloud supposed he’d been standing still for a moment too long in this chaos, like a flag in a storm.

“Yeah,” Cloud answered shortly. Then he saw the Warrior of Light step in front of him and block Shinryu’s flames with his shield. Terra and Y’Shtola took that moment to pelt the dragon with magic, which distracted Shinryu enough for the Warrior of Light to look over his shoulder at Cloud and say:

“I have a plan. Bartz and I will draw the planesgorger’s fire; Terra, Tidus and Shantotto will provide the distraction and you, Firion and Noctis will attack its flank. Y’Shtola will provide protection where she can.”

Cloud scowled at him. He looked to the side - ExDeath and Golbez were throwing magic, Kuja was flittering around the dragon’s head like a bee, Sephiroth was taunting the god with swipes of his sword – and wondered why the warrior’s plan did not involve them.

Bartz squeezed Cloud’s shoulder. “There’s no time like the present!”

Cloud glared at him. He wanted to say: _This is a terrible plan_ , but he didn’t. It wasn’t as if he had anything better to contribute.

They dispersed. Bartz lifted his knight’s shield, and Cloud ran over to Noctis’s side just as Firion swung down via rope harpooned to floating debris and landed next to them. The three warriors readied their swords, watched for the opening, then dashed to Shinryu –

What happened next was so fast Cloud thought for a moment he must have been dreaming, but it was all too horrific to be imaginary:

Shinryu turned his great head from Terra and set his large, amber eyes on Cloud, opened his great big jaw, swung his head down, clamped his mouth around Cloud and swallowed him down his sticky, wet throat.

*

Bartz could not believe what he’d just seen; so much so that he just stood there, gaping, shield almost completely forgotten and slipping from his arm. Cloud had just been _eaten,_ gobbled up _right in front of his eyes._

Someone shoved him hard in the back. “It’s not over till the fat lady sings!” Tidus shouted at him. “Time to focus on the game, man!”

“The game…?” Bartz whispered through dry lips. “But Cloud… he… he’s gone…”

Tidus, already having run back into the fray, didn’t hear him. Then the world began to crumble in earnest, rock turning to rubble and dust beneath Bartz’s feet. He stumbled, slipping down ground that tilted and moved. Regardless, Shinryu the Planesgorger was losing the battle. ExDeath, Cloud of Darkness, Ultimecia, Kefka, Vaan, Cecil, Squall, Zidane… everyone… everyone was bombarding the dragon godking and he was failing.

Then the dragon slipped off the edge of the world into the abyss.

“Wait – “ Bartz whispered. Then louder, “Wait!” He ran over the rubble and the dust and jumped off the cliff after the dragon. He heard someone call his name – perhaps it had been Squall – but it was too late: he was falling after a dragon roaring in pain and defeat.

*

Cloud had been in a panic when he’d first entered the stomach of the beast, but then he’d felt tired suddenly, like he was drunk from too much wine, and now he dozed to the lullaby of a dragon’s song. The song was as beautiful as it was foreign, like a child singing in an ancient language. He thought he heard the lyrics, _You are worthy_ , but since he couldn’t understand the language at all he felt that couldn’t be true.

Then there was a loud, ripping sound, like a zipper being open right in front of his face, and the singing petered out like a small flame in the wind.

Someone was frantically calling his name in the darkness. The ripping sound grew louder, then a cracking sound, and some light shone into his eyes.

Cloud squinted.

Bartz was holding up a ball of light and was shining the light into the giant wound he’d just cut into Shinryu’s belly. Cloud grunted as he tried to extract himself from the goo, and Bartz grabbed his arm to help him up. “Are you – “ Bartz swallowed. “I mean, I was so worried, I’d thought I’d lost you!”

Cloud managed to sit up. “I’d thought I’d lost me too,” Cloud joked, throwing Bartz a quick smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever been eaten before.” He got a good grip on the sides of the wound and hoisted himself up.

Bartz seemed to think about that as he helped Cloud get out of the body of the dragon and onto its flank. “I almost got eaten by a big Void monster, once.”

“Oh yeah?” said Cloud. He held onto Bartz’s arm to keep himself steady over the great beast’s scales. Together they managed to jump off the body and onto the ground. “Must have been a wild ride.”

“It was pretty awful,” Bartz agreed. He rubbed his hands clean on his sash and looked Cloud up and down. 

Cloud tried his best not to feel embarrassed at the scrutiny. “I’m… gross,” he sighed.

A few metres away, the air sparked with magic, and then Noctis appeared, having warped down to them. He looked at them with concern. “You guys okay?”

Cloud gestured at himself. “As good as I can be covered in stomach muck.” He looked up; they’d fallen into a deep cavern, and now it seemed the three of them were stuck down here. “Any chance you can get us out?”

Noctis looked apologetic. “Warp doesn’t really work like that. I came to see if you’re ok, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I didn’t think of how to get you out.”

The rock above them vibrated and rumbled. All three of them looked up, only to get dust into their eyes as the slanted cliffs shook.

Bartz titled his head down as he tried to blink it out. “It’s a shame we can’t just conjure up a portal like Shantotto can.”

“A portal would sure be useful right about now,” Cloud agreed, thinking that if one did just happen to open it would be great if there was a bath on the other side.

As if materalising from his very thoughts, a portal manifested behind Bartz. The three of them stared at it a moment, before rock started crumbling and falling in earnest. A boulder was going to fall right on top of Bartz and Cloud didn't waste a moment of thought -

He shoved Bartz through the portal then dodged back as the area caved in, separating Cloud and Noctis from the portal. They gasped, shielding their eyes from the dust.

When the rubble settled, Cloud and Noctis stared at the cave-in in despair.

“Now what,” Noctis moaned.

“At least Bartz got out,” said Cloud in quiet relief.

Noctis groaned to himself and rubbed his face as if Cloud’s words were of no comfort at all.

Cloud looked around: they were trapped in a small space, only able to take about three strides between walls. Their air could run out too, unless some was trickling down through the rubble, but they were so far underground, it was highly doubtful.

 _We could really use another portal,_ Cloud thought, and a pulling sensation followed by a tingling in his fingertips made him catch his breath, before a portal coalesced in from of him.

Noctis, who had been pressing his forehead into the wall in despair, whipped round and stared at it.

“Let's go,” said Cloud -

“You ain't telling me twice!” Noctis warped into the portal ahead of Cloud, and Cloud himself strode through after him.

*

Cloud pulled off his boots and socks, then dug his toes into the sand. After a moment of enjoying the feel of it between his toes, he walked into the sea, clothes still on. He needed to cleanse himself of Shinryu’s stomach fluid, and this seemed the best way in a world with no luxuries.

“Man, but that does look nice,” Cloud heard Noctis comment to himself. 

Cloud ignored Noctis, who stripped off to his underwear and ran clumsily into the water. The two men kept themselves separate, just as their intentions were: Noctis was swimming for fun, but Cloud had a mission to make himself and his clothes clean, something that wasn’t easy when he was still wearing those clothes. They clung to his skin and stretched when he dove under.

He held his breath under water for some time, enjoying the slight currents undulating over him, when he saw Aerith.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest as she looked at him with green eyes, her hair loose around her, floating in the water, and she said to him, voice distorted:

“ _It’s difficult for us to protect you from so far away_.”

Cloud stared at her, imploring her with his eyes. But his lungs were burning, and he had to surface.

Noctis was too far away to notice Cloud gasping for air. Cloud treaded water for a moment, a low feeling of panic set deep in his belly. Then he dived under again and tried to look for her, but she was gone.

When Cloud surfaced again, the air was still and crisp, the water tranquil and salty. The natural beauty of it did nothing to quell Cloud’s anxiety, like he was a storm in the calm. Some distance away, Noctis was swimming a backstroke lazily, like he had no cares in the world.

Then suddenly, a portal appeared over Noctis, and Squall dropped out, splashing right next to Noctis. Noctis spluttered, and Squall resurfaced as the portal disappeared, looking around rapidly.

Cloud swam freestyle to their location. They were talking quietly to each other, and Cloud interrupted them with:

“Have you seen Bartz?”

Squall shot him an irritated look. He looked like a wet cat, treading water with his hair plastered flat to his forehead. “Last time I saw Bartz he was jumping off a cliff,” Squall snapped, “after _you._ ”

“Oh,” said Cloud.

“Do you ever…” Noctis started to ask Cloud. “You know. Do you ever just say ‘hi’?”

Cloud couldn’t answer; instead, Squall drawled, “Of course he doesn’t.”

Noctis said to Squall, “Bartz is fine by the way; after he jumped off the cliff, I mean. He just got separated from us – went through a different portal.”

Squall seemed relieved, nodding slightly, and Cloud remembered with a stab of jealousy that Squall and Bartz were actually good friends despite their obvious differences in personality.

The three treaded water for a quiet, awkward pause. Then finally Cloud said to Squall, “Sorry. He’s probably fine, it’s just… I don’t know that I am, and I… need to find him.”

Noctis looked confused by this statement, but Squall seemed to understand, if the softening of his gaze was anything to go by. “Bartz wanders around like a feather on the breeze,” Squall drawled. “If you want to find him, rule of thumb is to stay in one place. He’ll find you eventually.”

“Hold up,” Noctis put his hand up with a slight splash of water. He looked between Squall and Cloud several times, but settled on Cloud. “If you need to unload, you could always talk to us..?”

“Bartz and I had been travelling together in this world for a while,” Cloud tried to explain. He shrugged a little, blushing. “We became sort of… close, I guess. Close friends,” he added rapidly.

Noctis gave Cloud a long look. “Cloud are you… not that I’m judging or anything, of course… but are you gay?”

“Yes.” The heat in Cloud’s cheeks grew even hotter. “I mean… maybe. I don’t know for sure; I’ve… loved others. But never been a relationship.”

“Oh,” said Noctis, eyebrows raised. “Fair enough; I’ve never been in a relationship either, not really. I’ve loved the same person my whole life but we… it was never the right time.”

Cloud relaxed a little. He gestured at Squall with a little splash. “What about you?”

Squall sighed like the conversation was a drag. “I have a girlfriend back home.”

“A girlfriend, huh?” Noctis said wistfully. “Sounds nice.”

“You’re lucky,” Cloud told Squall. He looked down at the water’s surface and the small ripples they were making. “To have someone who likes you back.”

Squall made a small groaning noise at the back of his throat. “I’m sure Bartz likes you back,” he muttered.

Cloud frowned, a tugging feeling in his chest. “I doubt it.”

“Well, he…” Squall began. “I don’t know for sure who he likes. But he likes men, so you’re probably in with a chance.” Squall turned to swim away to shore, only to pause, gaze caught. “There’s someone on the beach,” he said.

*

The someone turned out to be a moogle with a gift of crystals. Cloud examined his; it was heavy and transparent, and seem to sing to him on a barely heard frequency only he could discern.

“What are these for, exactly,” Noctis asked the moogle. “Will they take us home?”

“Place your memories inside, kupo,” it said, “so that others may produce energy for this world.”

“And how do we do that?” said Squall.

“Just hold them, kupo.”

“Why do they need our memories?” said Cloud, a feeling of apprehension coming over him.

The moogle was hovering in the air. It seemed to stare at him. “So that others may produce energy for th – “

“’Others?’”

“He means manikins,” said Squall.

“- For _this world,_ after you leave, kupo!” the moogle snapped. It wriggled its nose in irritation.

“So we _are_ going to leave, then?” asked Noctis hopefully.

It looked at him, then at Cloud. Then with another wriggle and a flash of light, it disappeared.

“…Okay, then,” said Noctis. “Guess we pissed him off.”

Cloud didn’t really care. He felt so tired, suddenly, but he and his clothes were still wet so he couldn’t sit on the sand just yet, and that made him aggravated. He looked up at the bushy sand dunes. “I need to find a place to make camp.” He walked away toward the dunes.

“So you’re going to wait here for Bartz?” Noctis called after his retreating back.

“Guess so,” said Cloud over his shoulder.

Noctis and Squall exchanged glances. “We could wait with you, for a while.”

Squall sighed. “Whatever.”

*

In World B, it wasn’t normal for Cloud and his friends to eat, or to sleep, but tonight seemed to be an exception. He, Squall and Noctis had found a patch of grass to lie down on, and not long after the sun had gone down had they fallen asleep.

Cloud awoke in the middle of the night with a deep, dull pain in his shoulder blades, and assumed it was from sleeping in an uncomfortable position.

He left his two friends asleep and trudged slowly down the dunes to the beach. The waves lapped at the shore with the rhythm of their own lullaby, and Cloud barely moved as a dark figure stepped up beside him. He breathed in deeply through his nose to stay calm, and kept his eyes on the dark ocean.

“You’re wondering what she meant before,” Zack said quietly.

Cloud, heart in his throat, gave a minute nod.

“You’re in danger; you can feel that, right? But Aerith and I are back in our own world, and our powers struggle to reach you this far. You’re going to need someone.”

 _But I need you,_ Cloud thought but didn’t say. Instead, he nodded again, throat tight. There was no point arguing with ghosts, or following them into the darkness.

*

The three friends spent two days on Besaid Island, but that was enough for the novelty to wear off even for Noctis.

Cloud made a decision. “Next time a portal opens, I’m coming with you guys.”

Noctis looked at him with concern. “Are you sure? What happened to waiting?”

“Bartz would never wait; he would always look.” Cloud flexed his shoulder: the pain across his shoulders and down his spine had worsened in the time since he’d spoken to Zack.

“Are you okay?” Noctis asked, giving Cloud’s shoulders a pointed look. “Does your back hurt?”

Cloud tugged at his clothes self-consciously and thought about lying. But then he nodded, and with a deep exhale, he pulled up his own top.

Squall and Noctis went around him and looked at his back. Noctis hissed through his teeth. “What is that…?” He reached out a hand and touched Cloud’s back –

Cloud abruptly pulled away and pulled down his shirt, feeling wrong. Noctis wasn’t allowed to touch… no one was allowed to touch…

“Couldn’t really get a good look,” Squall told Cloud tightly. He looked pale. “But there seems to be… _scales_ … on your back. Is it on your left arm too?”

Cloud examined himself. “They seem to be on my shoulders… for now.” He hesitated then said, “I had a disease once, called Geostigma. Do you think it could be something like that?”

“I hope not,” said Noctis sincerely. “There is a plague in my world. It can – “ He sighed and looked away. “It can transform you.”

“It’s probably not like that,” said Squall quietly.

Cloud felt his eyes sting with heat. He blinked back the tears. Zack and Aerith had tried to warn him of the danger he was in, but from what? And who could help him now? Cloud immediately thought of Bartz with his knight’s shield held high, but Cloud might not be able to find him.

Less than an hour later, a portal opened down the shoreline, and the three friends walked through it to a darker place with a high moon. They strolled the edge of a gravel cliff before noticing a figure in the distance.

“Who is that?” whispered Noctis. “An enemy?”

“It’s Kain,” Cloud told him. He exchanged a look with Squall. “Whether friend or foe… not easy to tell.”

Noctis cross his arms. “Interesting.”

“Hey,” Cloud greeted Kain as the party approached.

“Greetings,” said Kain. “Are you ripe or weary from the final battle?”

“Weary,” said Cloud. “Weary is a good word for it.”

*

Cloud didn’t know Kain very well, and did not deem it necessarily to inform him of his affliction. Instead, the now group of four talked together about their journeys, from their own worlds, and through the cycles on this one. A day passed before they encountered another portal, and the relief was felt all round, for the current area they had been walking through was dull and lacked sunlight to warm their skin.

Just as Cloud thought, _I hope this portal leads to Bartz_ , another portal near Noctis opened.

They stared at one portal, then the other. “Choices, choices,” Noctis muttered with his arms crossed. “Column A, or column B?”

“How about I go column A and you go B,” Cloud said to him.

Noctis raised his eyebrows in amusement. “You trying to get rid of me?”

In reply, Cloud offered his hand and Noctis took it and shook it firmly. “Stay safe, okay?” Noctis told Cloud, and then he turned and left through the portal, Kain following with a tilt of his head in farewell.

Squall headed towards the other portal. “Let’s go.”

Cloud looked at him in surprise, but followed him regardless. “You’re coming with me?”

“Better the devil who doesn’t talk all the damn time,” Squall muttered in reply.

*

Noctis went through the portal and stopped in his tracks so abruptly that Kain almost ran into his back.

Bartz stared at them.

“You’re - you're here!” said Noctis.

Bartz grinned and put his fists on his hips. “Long time no see!” He peered behind Noctis, saw Kain but no one else as the portal disappeared, and frowned. “Where’s Cloud? Is he okay?”

“He’s been looking for you,” Noctis told him, and happiness swelled in Bartz’s chest. A breeze brushed past them, and over the treeline a bird could be seen flying high in the distance. Noctis looked around. “You alone?”

Bartz shrugged. “Nah. Cecil and Terra wandered off to go look at the river.” He gestured to his right vaguely. “They’ll be back soon.”

“Cecil is here?” asked Kain, stepping forward.

Bartz nodded.

Kain tilted his head with a frown. “Then I shall take my leave.”

Noctis looked at him in alarm. “Already?”

“Indeed. It has been a pleasure.” And with that he turned and walked in the opposite direction to where Bartz had gestured. Bartz stared after him in confusion: didn’t he want to go see Cecil?

“I take it he’s a bit of a loner?” Noctis asked Bartz rhetorically as he watched Kain go.

“Sounds like someone else we know,” said Bartz with a wink.

“You mean Cloud?”

“Oh! No, I meant Squall,” said Bartz with a small laugh.

Noctis gave him a long look. Then he crossed his arms and said, “They’re together, you know.”

For a second Bartz thought Noctis meant _together-together_ and jealousy flashed through him like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head. But then it subsided as quickly when Noctis said:

“They went through the portal together, I mean. At least I think they did? I didn’t actually see them do it.”

“I didn’t know they were friends, but I can see how they would get on well,” Bartz forced himself to say. “Do you think Cloud is a loner?”

Noctis rubbed his chin. “Huh, now that you mention it, maybe not. He benefits from having friends around him, especially now.”

“Now?”

Noctis hesitated, and Bartz’s mild curiosity turned piercing. Noctis said, slowly, “I think he might be sick.”

The dark way Noctis had said it made Bartz clench his teeth against the worry winding itself in his gut. “Is he going to be okay?”

Noctis looked apologetic. “I don’t know.”

Bartz went to ask more when Cecil and Terra came over the crest of the hill and called their names, waving their arms in greeting. Bartz waved back as amicably as he could, then turned back to Noctis and told him, lowly, “I need to find Cloud.”

“Yeah,” said Noctis, “you do.”

Bartz hesitated. “Did he... say anything else about me?”

Before Noctis could answer, Cecil came to their side and asked anxiously, “Was that Kain I saw departing?”

Noctis, hand on one hip, gave him an amused look. “Happy to see you too.”

Cecil’s grin was rueful. “Apologies, but I must make haste if I am to catch up with him.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Noctis reassured, and as the party moved away, Cecil well ahead of them, Terra observed:

“Their friendship is complicated.”

“Seems like it,” said Noctis easily.

Bartz wished he had the enthusiasm for gossiping about Cecil and Kain like Terra and Noctis seemed to, but all he really wanted to do was press Noctis for more information. Cloud was… his friend, someone he wanted to see before he left this world. Moreover, Cloud was the prettiest man he had ever laid eyes on, and was also kind of his favourite, though he would never tell Zidane or Squall that. It was always so addictive – the pounding of his heart and the tightening of his throat whenever he dared to flirt with Cloud - because Cloud would always take it in stride, respond to his light flirting with a little smirk and a quick remark. So Bartz had always wanted to push a little more, get in a little harder, see if he could sneak through that hard exterior and make Cloud blush.

He would look so pretty with a blush.

Bartz looked at Noctis. Caught his eye. Raised his eyebrows at him.

Noctis raised his eyebrows back. Then after a beat he said, “Yes, he was asking after you. He said he wants to see you before he leaves.”

Bartz hummed in satisfaction, thoughtful. “I may have to split from the party, soon.”

Terra gave Bartz a curious look, but Noctis nodded. “Understandable,” he said.

They saw Cecil and Kain dashing back to them over the Crest of the hill. Bartz automatically went on guard, curling his fingers around the hilt of the chicken knife strapped to his left hip.

“Manikins!” said Cecil upon his approach. “A horde of them.”

“Blend back into the trees,” Noctis commanded, tapping Terra’s wrist and Bartz’s shoulder. 

“I’ve battled a horde before,” said Terra quietly as they melted into the shadows. “We must persevere for as long as we can, and hope that help is on its way.”

Bartz gave a nervous giggle. Kain looked at her with some interest. “Let us pray it does not come to that,” he said.

The horde marched over the hill.

The first thing Bartz noticed was that the manikins had evolved from their crystalline appearance of bright colours and translucency, to a more human solidness. The second was that the group was made up of a great mix of people, from Exdeath to Zidane, Sephiroth to Firion... and even a couple he didn't recognise, including a woman with a crossbow and a man whose shield was a spinning gold wheel. The third observation was that as the horde passed them, a Cloud manikin turned to stare at him with blank eyes until he passed Bartz completely.

“They're ignoring us,” was Bartz’s fourth revelation, stepping out of the trees. 

Terra stepped up next to him. “Yes. It's as if they are heading some place.”

Bartz frowned. “They are certainly determined.”

*

Cloud poked their little fire with a stick, more out of boredom than to make it larger. Beside him, Squall looked at the dark scales on his bare arm. “It’s spreading,” Squall observed.

“Yeah,” said Cloud.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not quite,” Cloud tried to explain. “It only hurts on my back. My shoulders and arms… it doesn’t really feel like anything, or rather… it feels like my skin feels, like it’s a part of me.”

“This happened after Shinryu ate you, right?” said Squall, hugging his knees. “Do you think he gave you something?”

Cloud had thought about it before now, but no matter how he shaped the idea, nothing pleasant seem to come to mind. He settled with, “Probably,” then added quietly, “nothing I can do about it. The only other feeling I get from it is… this overwhelming feeling like I don’t want to be touched, like I’m extra sensitive… yet when I touch it myself, I don’t feel any sensitivity. If anything, it’s like I’ve gained a tough hide.”

They made camp on a soft patch of dirt next to a burnt out car. Squall didn't say anything as he laid down beside him, but after a moment in the darkness, Cloud asked him, “Are you alright with the manikins taking our memories?”

Squall shuffled. “It's not like they're getting stolen.”

“Clones of us, wandering around this world…” Cloud mused. “Why is everyone okay with that?”

“Who says they are?” Squall drawled. Then he sighed. “Look. The manikins are born and they exist, and they'll wander this world and fight one another whether we like it or not.”

Cloud was starting to understand. “But if we give them our memories, our appearances… they'll live fuller lives. Be… be self-aware…”

“They were born to fight, but this way, they can have other things. I guess.”

Cloud looked at Squall, but couldn't entirely make out his features in the half-light. “Do you think they'll get sick of fighting? Do you think they can love?”

Squall groaned a little. “Why do you care? It's not happening to you. Go to sleep.”

Cloud relaxed his body and thought about versions of himself walking around, talking to other manikins. If he had feelings for Bartz, would his manikins adopt those feelings? Would a manikin version of himself sit under a tree, enjoy the sun on his face, the smell of the grass? And would a Bartz manikin come to his side, sit down beside him, natter into his ear? Could they find peace with one another, or would they fight? Cloud thought that the manikins perhaps fought for fun, like children playing games; and then after, they would relax, chat about their pasts as if their pasts belonged to them. Manikins didn’t eat or sleep, but they did have memories, and they could talk, and they could feel.

Was this world the Promised Land Sephiroth and Shinra and Aerith had all talked about? People tried so hard to get here… and here was Cloud, thrown in against his will, waiting and waiting until the time came when he could go home.

When Cloud finally fell asleep, he had a dream of Bartz on a hill, walking away from him. When Cloud called his name, the dream was silent, but Bartz looked over his shoulder as if he’d heard him.


	2. Bathe in the Deluge

A week passed.

In that time, Cloud and Squall met up with Zidane, Ramza and Tidus, who had also gotten their crystals. Not long after Zidane and Ramza had split from the group, Cloud, Squall and Tidus had found Locke, and together they’d gone on a journey.

Locke had never managed to gain Squall’s complete trust, and as such, the party split once more, and Cloud and Squall travelled together through the endless Promised Meadow. 

There was real beauty to the world, despite its overall feeling of despair and eternity, like staring down a long golden path though the tunnelled Void, its swirls of darkness mesmerising to the traveller.

Cloud and Squall had perfected the art of _companionable silence_ , and were able to walk the meadow with each other for company for a good chunk of the day.

But then a magical sound was heard from far away that was neither kind nor sinister, and yet for some reason it filled Cloud with dread.

Both hearing it, Cloud and Squall exchanged glances, then looked around them. In the distance they saw no less than five portals open, which was a strange occurrence. But then _bodies piled out of them._

Cloud gripped the hilt of the sword strapped to his back, and Squall drew his gunblade.

“Manikins,” growled Squall, unnecessarily.

“Yeah,” said Cloud. “We should run.”

Squall seemed to hesitate, as if fleeing would not have been his first choice. But the manikins kept pouring out into the meadow and running towards them, and Cloud felt fear; so he made the decision, and the duo turned and ran.

They ran and ran.

The manikins did not fatigue like humans did, even humans as powerful as Cloud and Squall.

“They’re catching up to us,” Squall shouted at him. “We have to turn and fight.”

Cloud scowled, looking over his shoulder. He was angry and scared, but Squall was right. “On the count of three,” he said to Squall. “One, two, three!”

And they turned and faced the horde.

The sea of manikins came over them in waves. Cloud's sword clashed left, right, front. It clashed with Warrior of Light’s shield and Dark Knight Cecil’s spear. He dodged a lightning strike from Lightning and a meltdown from Terra. Squall was near him, slashing and shooting with a speed Cloud had never seen him execute before. 

They were able to get a couple of spells off, but mostly they just defended themselves, getting increasingly overwhelmed. Firion and Ace were particularly difficult, holding them in place for Golbez or the Emperor to do serious magical damage. But it was Ultimecia who truly winded him with her Apocalypse spell, causing him to stagger, his vision blurring at the edges. He heard Squall call out his name only for it to be abruptly cut off –

When Cloud fell to one knee, a Bartz manikin with silver hair came at him with a blazing sword. The beseeching look Cloud gave it caused it to hesitate. But then a manikin of Cloud himself stood in front of Bartz and swung the buster sword down. Cloud barely rolled out of the way.

“Bartz,” he said, voice hoarse. He wanted to see Bartz one more time before he died. Pleading for such a wish out loud seemed a little silly, but who would hear him? He had not seen or heard Squall for quite some time. “Bartz! I need you. Help me. Help me. Help...”

*

During that week gone past, Bartz had wandered far and wide, meeting up with almost everyone from Materia’s crew. He had settled with the women for the last couple of days, opting for Lightning’s wariness, Terra’s optimism, Y’Shtola’s observations and Tifa’s polite company.

“They’ll be churches, for worship of the gods,” Terra was saying as they walked past the ruins of a once-great city. “Hmm, but will there be separate churches for Spiritus and Materia? Or will they be all one with different altas?” She turned to Tifa. “Are there churches in your world?”

Tifa’s eyes turned dark with sadness. “There... was.”

“No one should be forced to go to church,” Lightning said lowly. “These churches should be optional.”

“Then it shall be our decree,” Y’Shtola told her kindly, and Lightning gave her a grateful nod.

Bartz put his hands behind his head and listened to their conversation with a relaxed, calm mind. A wind blew past his cheek, and on that breeze carried a voice crying for help.

Cloud’s voice.

Bartz stopped in his tracks and turned this way and that. “Cloud? Where are you!” he yelled into the wind, but the voice was not heard again. He turned to Tifa who was staring at him in alarm. “Did you hear that?”

“No,” she said with urgency. “What was it?”

“I swear I heard Cloud’s voice.” His heart was beating fast. 

“Be careful where you tread - !” Y’Shtola shouted at him, pointing at his feet. But the warning came too late, for the portal that was opening beneath his feet grew large enough to drop him through.

He fell with a yell – if there was one thing Bartz hated, it was heights – right into the manikin horde in the meadow. He cried out and shielded his head with his arms as the manikins ran past him to some destination.

Tifa was calling his name from the portal in the sky. He looked up and saw her face looking down at him, her image distorted by the ripples of magic. “Are you okay?” she yelled with urgency.

“Shall we follow you through?” shouted Y’Shtola.

“That would be great, yeah!” he said. “But I don’t think the manikins want to attack me! They seem to be heading in some direction!”

Y’Shtola jumped down through the portal and to his side. Terra floated down in a magical bubble, and then Lightning and Tifa jumped down together, holding hands. The manikins were still dashing past their small group. Some banged into them bodily, and others met with Lightning’s shield as she shoved them away. “Now what!” she demanded.

“I’ve defeated a horde like this before,” Terra told them, raising her voice to be heard over the stampede. “But I almost died a permanent death. I do not recommend fighting them, even if you think we can win!”

“But Cloud’s here somewhere!” Bartz slapped his chest. “I can feel it in my heart!”

“Then we have to find him!” said Tifa.

*

Cloud was on the ground, on all fours. He’d been sliced and beaten, frozen and electrocuted. It would not be long now.

 _There’s not a thing I don’t cherish,_ he’d told Sephiroth once, his life flashing before his eyes. Now he had more people to add to his mental album: Squall, Noctis, Tidus, Locke…

Bartz.

_Bartz, I…_

He looked up at the sky. Wait, was that…?

“Bartz?” Cloud exclaimed.

Earth magic: mountains and hills protruded from the earth with great groans, dust rumbling out from each abrupt tooth of earth. And jumping from eruption to eruption was Bartz, his hands aglow with the Geomancer magic, manikins scattering in his wake. “ _Let the earth bellow!_ ”

His hair whipped around his face and his cloak flapped behind him as he gracefully leapt.

He looked stunning. He looked _beautiful._

Then Terra and Y’Shtola were by Cloud’s side suddenly – the _real_ Terra and Y’Shtola – and they were casting a protective spell around Cloud and themselves: a giant aqueous bubble that kept the manikins at bay. Terra held the south side with both hands, while Y’Shtola did the same on the other side of the bubble. Then Lightning came with Squall thrown over her shoulder, carrying him into the protection with a grunt, and then dumping him on his feet.

“Thanks,” Squall muttered, blood on his face and barely able to stand on his own.

Lightning kept one hand on his arm to keep him steady. “Do you normally get into battles you can’t win?” she snapped.

He grunted. “Did it look like I had a choice?”

Bartz slid down the last mountain into the protection, and landed on his feet right in front of Cloud, who was still on the ground. The sun was behind him, lighting him up like something ethereal and unreal. And then Bartz smiled down at Cloud, and offered his hand.

Cloud stared at it, at the delicate slant of his fingers and the blue, soft look of his material gauntlets. Then he reached out and took it.

Bartz hauled him up and grinned at him. “Been lookin’ everywhere for you.”

Cloud studied his face: his caramel brown eyes, the cheeky pink slant of his mouth. “Likewise,” Cloud croaked. Then he stumbled, and Bartz caught him by his arm.

Bartz blinked, then turned Cloud a little so he could look at it. “Your arm, it – “

“You shouldn’t touch it,” Squall interrupted, looking at them, and for a second Cloud wanted to kick him. Then Squall elaborated: “Cloud doesn’t like it.”

Cloud had thought he wouldn’t like being touched on the scales on his arms, but when Bartz had touched him, he’d felt a pleasant tingle.

“Oh!” said Bartz, pulling his hand away. He looked Cloud over. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah,” said Cloud, thinking, _Much better now you’re here._

“Here!” Bartz waved his hands until they glowed, and cast a health regeneration spell on Cloud and Squall. “Also, I have a friend for you!” He stepped aside, and with a wave of his arm like _Voila!_ Tifa stepped forward.

Cloud stared at her. “Tifa…”

Bartz stepped away from them completely. She came to Cloud and hovered near him like she wanted give him a hug, but they didn't have that kind of friendship. She said apprehensively, “You look… like…”

“It was a near thing,” he told her honestly, sensing the question in her hesitant words.

She nodded, her worried look not dissipating. “You’re safe, now.”

“Thanks,” he said. He looked to the side at Bartz giving Squall a hug that Squall didn’t seem to want if his pinched expression was anything to go by, and felt a stab of jealousy under his breast. _Mine,_ he thought, scowling. He pushed the feelings away and looked at Tifa again. “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Same as you, I guess. But it seems I came just after the big battle…? Also, what’s wrong with your arm? It doesn’t look like Geostigma, but…”

She reached for it, but Cloud pulled away. Tifa curled her fingers into a fist and brought her hand back to her side.

Lightning, still hovering close to Squall even though Bartz was with him, said, “If our little reunion is finished with, we had better come up with a plan to deal with _them._ ” She tilted her head at the manikins outside the bubble. They had all stopped and surrounded them, staring in at the group with unblinking eyes. “Y’Shtola, Terra,” Lightning addressed, “how long can you keep your shield up?”

“As long as we need,” said Terra with resolve.

“Likewise,” said Y’Shtola. “Nevertheless, we cannot stay here forevermore, for the longer we delay battle, the more our energies wane.”

“She’s right,” said Cloud, knowing that the fight was inevitable, “we can’t stay here forever.”

“Don’t give up just yet,” Bartz told him with optimism. “There may be another way.”

Lightning, Squall, Tifa and Cloud all looked at him with curiosity. Bartz turned to Cloud and said, “I heard your voice.”

Cloud blinked at him. “You… heard my voice?”

“Yes,” said Bartz breathlessly, like it was the most amazing thing to happen to him all day. “I heard your voice, calling for help, and then a portal opened up right under me, and then I was here!”

“I…” Cloud didn’t know if he could confess this with so many people around, but he decided to say it anyway because it was important: “I did call for you. For your help.”

The slow, happy grin Bartz gave Cloud made Bartz’s eyes sparkle. Cloud swallowed thickly.

“Cloud, what if…” Bartz began. “What if after Shinryu ate you, he gave you the power to open portals?”

Cloud contemplated the concept, brow creasing.

Tifa and Lightning, who had been walking the perimeter of the bubble, examining the manikins who had surrounded them, both turned and gave Cloud equally sharp looks.

“So that pretty much proves it....” Bartz said to himself, rubbing his chin. “One minute I hear your voice, the next a portal opens beneath me and I drop through to this place, to save you.” He clicked his fingers and gave Cloud an imploring look. “We could fight all these manikins, _or_ you could try to make a portal.”

Cloud nodded, then clenched his jaw, fighting back his indecision. “Where do I start?”

Bartz put his hands up in a placating gesture then waggled his fingers. “Permission to touch?”

“Always,” Cloud muttered. He felt more than saw Tifa’s look thrown his way at that, but Bartz only grinned, came over and put his hands on Cloud’s shoulders. He turned Cloud gently and steered him to the clearest space he could find within the confines of the bubble. Then he leant close.

Breath warm, he whispered in Cloud's ear, “Hold out your hand and wish for your next destination.”

 _I want to go home,_ Cloud thought. He held out his hand and immediately the air in the space in front of him started to hum and crackle. He felt energy course from his shoulder blades and down his arm then out his fingertips to the infant portal in front of him, its structure a kind of reluctant jagged thing, as if it did not _want_ to go where its master was commanding it. It lacked the smooth, rippled beauty of its brothers; it was instead dark, and spasmodic.

“Ya-ta!” Bartz exclaimed. “You're doing it!”

Everyone was watching them now, even Terra and Y’Shtola who were still holding the protection spell in place. “That is truly the power of the gods,” Y’Shtola commented.

Cloud felt both elated and fatigued, like the portal was draining him. “I think it's done,” he told Bartz, though he kept his hand up and the magic flowing to keep it open. “I guess... I should go through it, now.”

“You should,” Lightning said tactlessly. “Sooner rather than later. Once you’ve gone, I suspect the manikins will no longer be interested in attacking us.” 

Cloud looked around at all of them: they all seemed to agree.

“I’ll go first – “ said Bartz, stepping forward.

“You're coming with me?” said Cloud, heart beating.

Bartz grinned at him and put his fists on his hips. “Of course! Took me _ages_ to find you; there's no way I’m letting you go now. Besides, I’m always up for an adventure. Just let me hug Squall one last time...” He stepped over to Squall and did just that, squeezing him tight while Squall stood there and took it with a constipated look on his face.

Tifa stepped up to Cloud. “I’m coming too,” she told him with resolve, as if Cloud might protest; but Cloud only nodded, relieved that she would follow, reluctant to leave her behind.

Bartz had given Lightning a quick hug too, and then he was marching off into the portal, head held high. Tifa also went to give Lightning a hug, saw her hardened expression, and decided to kiss her on the cheek instead. She waved and said goodbye to everyone else, then she too, stepped through the portal.

Cloud's own goodbyes were short and to the point. 

Jumping through the portal was as easy as riding down an electrically charged slide, and then he was on his own two feet on solid ground once again.

It was night.

Bartz conjured a small ball of light in his cupped hand. “I don't know where we are, but it smells weird.”

“We're in my world,” Cloud told him. “Somewhere in the chocobo fields near Edge, would be my guess.”

Tifa looked at him sharply. “Wait – you created a portal _across worlds?_ ”

“I...” When she put it that way, it did sound like an amazing magical feat. “That was what I was aiming for.”

“How do you feel?” Bartz asked him.

“Tired,” Cloud admitted. Then he froze. “I hear something. Engines approaching.”

Only a moment later two airships were upon them, flood lights shuttered on with continuous _thunks_ and blaring right into their eyes. Armed soldiers in combat gear and helmets dropped down from both airships and hustled to surround them.

“I suppose we'd better put our hands up,” Tifa sighed as they were caught in a circle of gunmen, their heavy automatic weapons clacking as they held them in position: pointing right at them, front back and sides.

The three friends raised their arms, hands empty, in a gesture of surrender. Bartz leaned closer to Cloud. “Friends of yours?” he muttered.

“I'm assuming it's the WRO,” Cloud told him quietly.

“...So is that a yes or a no?”

“It's a grey area.”

With the lights in their eyes, they couldn't see much. A man on a speaker addressed them in his booming amplified voice. “State you name and your business here!”

“Did you portal us into WRO landspace?” Tifa growled at Cloud.

Cloud shifted uncomfortably. “it's not like I did it on purpose.” He cleared his throat and addressed his captor in a loud voice: “My name is Cloud Strife and my friends and I wish to speak to Reeve Tuesti. If he is unavailable, then we want to speak to Cait Sith.”

There was a pause. With his keen sense of hearing he heard the speaker shut off and the guys in charge arguing in whispers. _Cloud Strife,_ he heard and, _he wants to speak to Tuesti_ , and a louder, _how the fuck was I supposed to know it was Cloud fucking Strife, now he wants to speak to Tuesti, we’re fucked!_

“Just wake him up and let us on board,” Cloud said, getting impatient. He lowered his hands. “Tell him Tifa is with me.”

The sound of a firearm rattling with movement was heard as the leader pointed his gun at Cloud again. “And your other friend?”

“My name’s Bartz Klauser,” Bartz told him, stepping forward, “and I’m a Warrior for the Dawn.”

*

“It’s not quite five a.m. yet, so the chef is only just starting,” the one called Reeve told them. He pulled his dressing gown around himself and gestured for the group sit: Cloud, Tifa, Bartz, Shelke, Vincent and himself.

They sat at a wide table lined with benches in a large dining room. Since he’d boarded the ship, Bartz had opened his eyes wide and taken in the metallic, cold structure, with its hard edges and complete lack of wood, a natural component of any structure Bartz was used to back home. Furthermore, the one named Shelke had the appearance of a child yet possessed the keen intelligence of an adult, and similarly the bloodless one named Vincent had the eyes and demeanour of being older than he seemed on first impression.

Reeve looked normal in comparison, but it was obvious that he was the big boss.

“Thanks for that,” Tifa was saying to Reeve. “I’m starving. It’s so weird: where we had just come from, we didn’t eat, but we didn’t feel hunger, either.”

Reeve leaned forward with curiosity. “And where is that?”

“Another world,” Tifa told him simply. The answer only seemed to dissatisfy Reeve, though. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Cloud beat him to it.

“I don’t recall there being a base here before I left,” Cloud told Reeve. “Are you expanding?”

Reeve raised his eyebrows in surprise. “When you left, Cloud, you caused quite a stir.”

“You left without warning,” said Vincent; “we were worried.”

“In the wake of your departure, a molecular residue remained,” Shelke told Cloud monotonelessly. She turned to Tifa. “Some time after Cloud left, you too, seemed to disappear, but you left a trace that I could measure and study. A kind of signature.”

“The portals must leave behind something even after they close,” mused Tifa. She frowned and exchanged glances with Cloud. “That’s not good.”

“At least now we know you’re okay,” said Reeve.

Cloud crossed his arms. “I’m sure that’s the least of your concerns.”

This caused Reeve’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise, and for Vincent to frown and duck his expression behind the collar of his jacket. “On the contrary,” said Reeve, “I was very concerned. When the strongest man on the Planet disappears without a trace in just one moment, it’s very disconcerting for the rest of us.”

Cloud betrayed no emotion, but Bartz thought Reeve was being rather cold. He made a small noise at the back of his throat in involuntary protest, which only served to bring Reeve’s attention to him.

“And you, from where do you hail,” Reeve asked Bartz.

Bartz grinned at him. “I’m also from another world,” Bartz told him honestly, figuring if Reeve and friends knew about the portals they had the right to know about the rest, “but not the one we just came from.”

Shelke stared at him with her creepy eyes. “Fascinating,” she said. “Tell us more: is it another dimension, or another planet?”

Bartz glanced at Cloud to get his quiet permission, and with Cloud’s nod, Bartz said, “Well, I don’t know for sure. But, I have a theory – “

The ship’s chef came around with their breakfasts balanced on his arms, and as the plate of toast and eggs and sausage came down in front of Bartz his stomach rumbled, and he grabbed his knife and folk eagerly.

Bartz bit off some sausage and let the egg yolk run onto his bread. He swallowed. “I have this theory that we’re from different planets; but not only that, that we’re not that far away from each other, like, the same galaxy!” He paused to eat some more.

“Aside from other factors,” said Vincent, “the part of the theory that I can’t understand is how we understand you, and vice versa.”

“I have a theory for that!” announced Bartz with a flourish of his fork. “By the way, this breakfast is delicious!”

Cloud was watching him with some affection. He seemed more relaxed now, having finished half his food within the first minute of receiving it.

“So my theory is this,” Bartz told them: “What if all the planets with sentient life on it were all related? All the friends we had made in the other world had all spoken the same language, even if the dialects were a little different and some of the guys looked very different from us. What if in ancient times, there was just one society, and they all spoke the same, ancient language? And then for some reason the planet was split into multiple planets, but we all speak a version of that ancient language?”

“That would be a good theory,” said Vincent in his deep, gruff voice, “except even on this world there are multiple languages that cannot be understood unless you learn it.”

“That’s not quite what I mean,” Bartz told him patiently. “I mean the ancient language of the planets themselves. They’re sentient, are they not? What if we are on these planets, living off them, like fleas would a human, or a dog?”

Cloud raised an eyebrow at him, one cheek puffed out with his mouth half-full of food. “Did you just call us fleas?”

“Yeah,” said Bartz benignly. “To the gods themselves, are we not fleas?”

Tifa chewed her food thoughtfully. “Barret always used to say Shinra was sucking out the lifeblood of the planet.”

“I have a shard of the Wind Crystal inside me,” Bartz tried to explain to Vincent. “The crystals are sentient parts of my world. Inside them, they also held the souls and therefore the skills of warriors long dead. And so, I am a Dawn Warrior. Do you not have Dawn Warriors on this world?”

Cloud frowned, perturbed. Reeve said, “Perhaps we do. Or don’t. If we did they’d be called something else.”

“We do have them,” Cloud corrected him. It’s us. And the Huge Materia… are our crystals.”

Shelke made a small noise in disagreement. “The Huge Materia are manmade.”

“But we still protected them,” said Tifa. “And they are still a part of this planet.”

“You think everyone summoned by Materia and Spiritus were Warriors for the Dawn, from all the sentient planets from around the same galaxy?” Cloud asked Bartz.

Bartz clicked his fingers at him. “You got it!”

“So we all speak the same language, because we’re all related somehow?” Cloud continued. He made a face. “Somehow, I don’t really want to be related to you.”

Bartz smacked him on the arm and Cloud smirked. Tifa’s eyes flickered between them.

She said, “I wonder if the reason we didn’t need to eat in the other world was because it wasn’t one of our… ‘related planets’. I’d always though it was the future… or rather, a post-apocalyptic version of Warrior of Light’s world. But maybe it was another _version_ of his world, like a mirror.”

“Many have theorised mirror worlds,” said Shelke thoughtfully. “A world on the reverse, which does not adhere to the same rules as our own.”

Bartz finished the last of his breakfast and dabbed his mouth with his napkin.

*

Bartz stretched his arms above his head, looking forward to the cold tankard of ale that was sure to press against his lips in only a moment. “I’m so glad I’m friends with you,” he told Tifa as they entered Seventh Heaven. “To have a friend who owns a pub is certainly a blessing.”

“Thanks,” said Tifa with a laugh as she went behind the bar and pulled out bottles and uncapped them. “A beer would go down a treat.”

Cloud looked from one to the other tiredly. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning.”

“So… does that mean you’re not having one?”

“I’m gonna crash,” was Cloud’s answer, and he trudged up the stairs. “I’ll change the sheets, so come to my room when you’re ready,” he called down to Bartz.

Bartz and Tifa looked at each other. Then wordlessly she pushed an ice cold bottle into each of Bartz’s hands and gestured to the stairs with a tilt of her head.

Bartz took both beers and went up to Cloud’s room.

He was sitting on the bed, shoulders slumped, with bags under his eyes. “I thought I would have a shower and change the sheets and...” He took the beer Bartz offered. “But now I can’t be bothered.”

“Then don't,” said Bartz simply. He wandered to the large window and looked out, sipping his own beer. “Nice view. It’s very messy, but in a nice way.”

Cloud snorted, getting up to go over and lean against the window. Outside the day was just starting, the metal twists of structure and pipes exposed to the sunlight. A skinny cat ran across the way and sniffed the homeless man still lying asleep against the item shop wall. A prostitute come out of a door across the road, followed by her client who lit a cigarette and walked off in the opposite direction without a glance back at her. A teenage kitchen staff member wandered down the street and was let in the back of a restaurant.

Bartz took it all in, absorbing the nuances of this new world. Then he looked at his tired friend. “Are you still in pain?”

“Yeah,” said Cloud. “But I’ve found I can ignore it.”

“What did Vincent say?” Cloud had talked to Vincent on the ship on the way back from the WRO landsite.

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” Cloud told Bartz. “The pain can be managed, and people get used to the disfigurement and eventually I will too.”

Bartz clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t call it disfigurement; I reckon you look badass.”

Usually Cloud would seem mildly amused, but he barely reacted.

Bartz resigned himself to their fate of slumber. He took Cloud’s beer bottle from his hand and put it on the floor along with his own. “Sit on the bed; I’ll take off your shoes.”

“I can take off my own damn shoes,” Cloud grumbled, but still he did as he was told, sitting on the bed and allowing Bartz remove his boots, and even let him manoeuvre him under the covers.

“Just sleeeeeeeep,” said Bartz. “Don’t worry about your dirty clothes or the sheets, we’ll deal with it another day.” Once Cloud was settled in one side, he crawled in after him, pulling the blankets over them both, snug. He took a moment to pat them down and get comfortable, and when he looked over at Cloud, Cloud was already asleep, dark blonde eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, his mouth settling into its strangely natural turned-down way. His breath was even and slow.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bartz told him quietly, then slammed his head back against his own pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. Sometimes, in quiet moments like this one, he would wonder what it would feel like to relax into the cradle of Cloud’s hips and thighs, and kiss the soft skin of his neck. Ever since he’d seen Cloud’s new dragon scales, he’d been curious about them too, wanting to feel them. Were they soft? Smooth? Warm? Bartz liked wyverns despite hating heights, so for Cloud to be part really pretty man and part wyvern – well, that was like catnip to someone like Bartz, and yet Cloud seemed so self-conscious about it. Come to think of it, Cloud had never seemed particularly conscious of his good looks even _before_ gaining the extra parts of himself. For someone like that to even exist was pretty rare.

*

When Bartz woke again, it was dark. Artificial light from the street outside filtered through the window, allowing Bartz to see Cloud still asleep next to him, his face calm and his hair fanned against the pillow.

Bartz got up and went down the corridor to find the bathroom. The door to what was presumably Tifa’s room was closed. Once he had used the bathroom for his ablutions, he made his way downstairs to the bar and kitchen.

“Neat,” he said to himself, opening the refrigerator to look inside. Cid had had a similar electric cold closet on the airship back home, but generally Bartz never got the opportunity to see such technologically advanced things, and certainly not one as well made as Tifa’s.

He pulled out tomatoes, lettuce, ham and cheese. With a little searching around the kitchen he found some bread from the bread box and a couple of plates from the cupboard.

“This bread is sliced,” he said to himself, bemused.

“How else are you supposed to have it?” said a voice from behind him.

Bartz spun around and found a teenage boy standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching him with suspicion. His voice had been deep, like it had broken recently.

Bartz placed his hands flat on the counter and casually leaned on it. “You must be Denzel,” Bartz greeted with a smile. “The name’s Bartz.”

“Where’s Cloud?” said Denzel, not moving.

“Still asleep,” Bartz told him. “I’m kind of starving so I thought I’d make us some lunches. Um, dinner. Um… midnight snack, maybe.”

Denzel stared at him for a moment. Then he said, “You’re not one of Cloud’s old friends.”

“Oh! Well, no, I supposed not.” Bartz thought about it, twisting his mouth to the side and looking to the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess I’m one of his _new_ friends.”

This answer only seemed to make Denzel frown more. But then Cloud came up behind him and placed his hands on Denzel’s shoulders, and then Denzel’s face turned bright, and he spun around, and he hugged Cloud tight with his eyes squeezed shut.

Cloud looked down at Denzel’s brown head with fondness. Bartz, feeling like he was intruding in a private moment, tried to move away without making a sound.

Of course, he utterly failed, accidentally knocking a butter knife off the bench. It clattered to the floor, the ringing sound echoing in the tiled space.

Cloud and Denzel looked at him.

Bartz cleared his throat.

“What are you doing?” Cloud asked him. The fond smile he had held for Denzel was gone.

Bartz picked up the knife and put it back on the bench. “Sorry, I was hungry.”

Cloud looked at the items on the bench. He moved past Denzel and started arranging the slices of bread on the two plates, then the cheese and ham. “Sandwiches are a good idea,” he admitted to Bartz. “Get the pickles from the fridge; they’re in the door.” When Bartz obliged, Cloud continued, “We can eat them quickly, then be on our way.”

“Where are you going?” Denzel demanded. He was standing in the doorway. “You only just got here!”

“To the church.” He finished the sandwich preparation, and handed one plate to Bartz.

“Then let me come with you,” said Denzel.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Cloud told him firmly. “And the bike is only supposed to take two people.”

“Then don’t take this Bartz person, and take me instead.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

Denzel looked so furious, it seemed as if he was on the verge of holding his breath and stamping his foot. But he didn’t; he stood tall.

Cloud bit into his sandwich, and chewed.

Bartz said, into the silence, “I promise to bring him back.”

Denzel narrowed his eyes at Bartz. “I bet you’re the reason he left. And I bet you’ll be the reason he leaves again.”

Bartz opened his mouth to say it wasn’t true, but Cloud said, “It’s complicated,” which made Bartz click his mouth shut and stare at him.

“Well I’m grown up now,” Denzel argued, “so explain it to me.”

Cloud had that pinched look on his face, like he wanted to run away rather than converse. Bartz chewed on his sandwich. Then Cloud said, “Bartz and I were both taken against our wills. It’s not his fault I disappeared.”

“Fine,” said Denzel, “then promise you won’t leave again.”

Cloud stared at him a moment, then looked down at his hand. Flexed it. “I can’t.”

Denzel scoffed and rolled his eyes, and turned and walked away. Cloud left his sandwich on his plate and followed him. Bartz stayed where he was and ate his sandwich slowly. He could hear Cloud and Denzel still talking to each other, voices raised, in the next room.

“You always do this,” Denzel accused.

“You’re studying because he want to join the WRO,” Cloud argued. “You should concentrate on that – “

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’m studying now, I’m living with you now - !”

“He means now’s the time you should be spending time with him.” A new voice: Tifa. Bartz imagined she was standing on the stairs, looking down at them, hair a mess from sleeping so long. She said, “One day, Cloud, you’re going to wake up and Denzel will have grown up and he’ll be off on an airship with Reeve and Shelke and Vincent doing Planet knows what, and you’ll want to see him and he’ll be too busy, and you will have wished you had stayed here with us when you had the chance.” She seemed to catch her breath, then she said lowly, “I know you hate being domestic – “

“It’s not that,” Cloud said, quietly. “I mean, I don’t mind it. I like it, even. But I…” His voice was getting lower and lower, and it was getting difficult for Bartz to hear. “I have the power to jump between worlds, now.”

Denzel made a surprised noise. Tifa said, “Just because you have it, doesn’t mean you have to use it.”

“But Bartz won’t stay,” said Cloud quietly, and Bartz swallowed the lump of sandwich in his mouth, and put the rest down on his plate. “It’s not in his nature to stay in one place.”

“Wait a darn minute!” Bartz shouted, bursting out the kitchen. Cloud and Denzel were at the bottom on the stairs, and Tifa was halfway up the flight. “I won’t go, I won’t leave!” Bartz put his hands out, placating. “I don’t want you to choose between me and your family,” Bartz told Cloud. “I’ll stay for as long as you want, okay? You’re my best friend, so - ” he shrugged, “ - you know. I’ll – I’ll do it.”

Denzel looked at him like he was a fly he’d like to swat, but Cloud was looking at him with wide eyes. “You’ll hate it,” Cloud told Bartz.

“Nah nah nah.” Bartz waved his hands around. “This is not my world, it’s completely new to me! Lots of new sights and smells and stuff like that! And if I get stir-crazy, I’ll just grab a chocobo and go for a trip for a few days or something. You guys have chocobos right?” Cloud and Tifa nodded slowly. “So… there!”

Cloud eyed him a moment without comment or expression. He seemed relieved, though. He turned to Denzel, “Go to bed; we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

*

“AMAZING!” Bartz shouted as he stumbled off the bike and pushed his night goggles from his eyes to his hair. “That was… intense. Incredible. Amazing!”

Sector Five was uninhabited now, and as such, there were no mako powered lights to see by; only the moon and the shining stars. Cloud’s mako-enhanced eyes allowed him see more than Bartz could in the blanket of night. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Cloud said, amused, as he went to the pack on the back of the bike and pulled out two torches. “I take it you’ve never been on a motorbike before?”

Cloud went to hand Bartz one of the torches, but Bartz grabbed him by this jacket instead, face close. “It was _so good,_ ” he moaned. The sound of Bartz’s words took Cloud by surprise and he was glad for the darkness because he was sure he was blushing. “It was like riding a wyvern, only _on the ground_ , so it was fun but not scary! Especially that part where you rode us off the edge of the road – woah! And then rode down some debris like it was just a steep hill – crazy!”

“That’s great,” said Cloud tightly, and squeezed one of the torches between them like a shield. “Torch?”

“Hey listen,” Bartz said quietly, looking deep into Cloud’s eyes. “Are you okay? That conversation with Denzel earlier, it was kind of intense, right? Being a parent must be really hard.”

“It is,” Cloud said shortly. He didn’t want to think about it too much; that argument with Denzel had hurt his heart, and he was full of regret.

Bartz’s hands were still on Cloud’s shoulders, and Cloud was reminded that Bartz was taller, and broader in the shoulders than himself, despite probably not having as much strength. Bartz said, “If it’s any consolation, I think you make a great dad. I don’t know if I would make a good one, though.” He looked to the side in thought, but Cloud stared at him intensely. “I loved my father, he was a good man, but I don’t think I would be as good as… he was…” He peered at Cloud’s face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Cloud had had this sudden thought about fatherhood and him and Bartz, and him and Bartz being fathers _together_ , making a child somehow, maybe with magic or something, and they could raise it in a loving home. “You’ll make a good dad, Bartz,” Cloud told him.

Bartz tilted his head a little. “I travel too much.”

“You do,” Cloud agreed. “But one day you might find yourself stopping somewhere and wanting to stay there and have children of your own.”

“Like in ten years or something?” said Bartz. He looked doubtful. “Yeah maybe. Did you know my father was also a Dawn Warrior? I’m starting to think there were a lot of Wars for the Dawn, you know? Where does it end? Oh, a torch!” He took the torch Cloud handed him and switched it on and waved it around. "So, a church. Why are we here?”

“Aerith and Zack visited me on the mirror world,” Cloud explained as he led Bartz to the entrance, “so I need to return the favour.” He put his hand on the door to open in, then looked back at his friend. “Also, I think Aerith will be able to help me with my…” He tilted his head to indicate his shoulder and back.

“So… we are here to visit some ghosts…?”

“Yes.” Cloud pushed the door open and went inside.

“Alrighty,” said Bartz, his voice wavering with nerves.

The moon was shining beams through the hole in the roof, glinting its light off the water’s surface and the flat of the buster sword. Cloud gave Bartz his other torch, and then started to take his pauldron and sleeve off. His shirt came next, and he deliberately didn’t look at Bartz even as he heard him suck air through his teeth in surprise.

“Cloud, your back - !”

“Is it really that bad,” Cloud murmured.

“I don’t know about _bad_ as such, but it’s… you know… _a lot_. All over, in fact.”

Cloud knew this even without looking. He knew that the scales were now dark and thick and covered all the skin on his back, as well as the back of his neck and most of his arms. It had yet to go to his buttocks and thighs, but it was probably only a matter of time.

He looked to the other end of the church and saw movement there.

“I hope you can help me,” Cloud told Aerith. He thought he saw her gesture to the pool of water, and so he walked over and stepped into it, and lowered himself slowly until his whole body, including his head, was under.

It was cold and dark and calm in the spring. He felt Aerith’s presence and he closed his eyes.

“ _Silly boy_ ,” she said fondly, “ _you’ve gotten yourself into a real pickle this time, haven’t you?_ ”

Cloud nodded.

“ _You’re in danger. And yet, there is nothing I can do for you._ ”

Cloud opened his eyes. She was right in front of him, eyes as green as the lifestream, but he could barely make her out in the darkness.

“ _The thing inside you. It does not threaten the Planet while in its dormant form. And so She will not heal you. I’m sorry._ ”

*

Cloud had been in the water for seemed like ages, but what was probably only a minute or so. Bartz shifted on his feet, nervous. He didn't like this place and couldn't understand why Cloud seemed to treat it like a sanctuary to be revered; it was damp and wet, and the souls that lingered here were both old and new, but all were stale and vengeful to some degree. The whole place reeked of death: not of blood and flesh, but of wet, rotting wood and old, musty curtains, of soot from unlit pyres, of worm filled soil made for graves and funeral flowers. Bartz was awed by the original Buster Sword, though, which stood amongst the flowers and weeds at a slight angle, dented and rusted. Yet, it did not feel like Cloud had abandoned it there; rather, it was both a gravestone and a shrine. Bartz remembered that sword fondly – or at least, a copy of it - how he’d adopted its properties with his Mimic job class particularly in the Twelfth Cycle.

Something to the left of him moved, and when he looked, there was the outline of a man standing in the pews, watching the water. Then the ghost seemed to move his head and slowly look at Bartz.

Bartz froze in fear. Although he felt no real threat from this ghost, the ghost wasn’t exactly happy that Bartz was there.

Cloud burst from the water with a splash, gasping for breath. Bartz took a step towards him. “You okay?”

“Never better,” Cloud heaved.

“You look the same,” said Bartz.

Cloud looked over his shoulder at him. He looked sad, like he was giving up. “Yeah.” He sloshed himself out of the water. Bartz looked around the church, but the ghost was gone. Cloud observed him and asked, “What is it?”

“There was a man here,” Bartz told him. “A ghostly one, I mean.”

“Zack was here?” Cloud focused on Bartz with wide eyes, then he looked around the church like Zack might pop up from behind a pillar. Cloud sagged. “I didn’t see him.”

“I don’t think he liked me,” Bartz confessed.

“Impossible.” Cloud waved him off as he went to get his shirt. “Zack likes everyone.”

Bartz had a fleeting thought that maybe Zack didn’t like him because he was jealous. Did ghosts get jealous? Probably. “Anyway, what did Aerith say?”

Cloud put his shirt back over his head. “She said there’s something inside me but that the Planet won’t heal me because it’s not a threat.”

Bartz watched as Cloud pulled his shirt on properly, despite it clinging to his skin. “So… is that good news, or bad news?”

“She said I’m in danger.”

“Bad news, then.”

“But that the danger is only a danger to me, not the planet. For now. I think.”

Bartz frowned. “That still sounds like bad news.”

“Not to me.” Cloud looked at him. “I can handle a threat to myself, but if it’s a threat to everyone around me, I will struggle to save them.”

Bartz frowned even more at these words, not liking Cloud’s self-depreciation. It was typical Cloud: to run from danger and hide in the shadows. To suffer alone. He was physically one of the strongest people in the war between Materia and Spiritus, and yet his attitude was more flight than fight. “So what now?” said Bartz.

“Back to the drawing board,” Cloud decided.

“Are you too wet to get a drink?”

Cloud visibly relaxed at these words. “Not at all,” he said.

*

Bartz took a long drink from his bottle of beer, then slammed it on the table. “Beer and fried noodles at three o'clock in the morning,” he sighed, “best thing ever.”

Cloud liked watching Bartz enjoying himself, though he tried not to show it.

Inside, Cloud kept running through his dilemma: Aerith couldn't cure him, so what now? What if the scales spread to his whole body, what then? Would his personality change? Would he lose himself? Would he _die_? 

He was pushed right out of his thoughts by Bartz's hand on his own. “Let's connect the dots.”

Bartz’s hand felt cold from the bottle of beer. It was nice. Cloud pulled his hand away and said, “I can't think of any cure.”

Bartz put his finger up. “Back track for a sec. Shinryu eats you. Aerith said there was a ‘thing’ inside you. You get scales, you get power. Okay so, Shinryu must have given you something during the final battle.”

There weren't many noodles left on Cloud’s plate. He put some in his mouth and chewed as he thought. Then he swallowed and said, “Vincent had this thing inside him called a proto-materia. There were monsters inside him, and the proto-materia kept them under control.”

Bartz’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you think that could cure you?”

Cloud shook his head. “Shinryu is not bursting out of me every chance he gets, so no. I was thinking more that perhaps Shinryu put something like that materia inside me.” The thought made Cloud very uneasy, so he took a chug of his own beer.

“A materia that gives you the power to jump between worlds,” mused Bartz.

Cloud nodded, then drank some more.

“And the scales?” asked Bartz.

Cloud put his beer down. “When Jenova was placed inside Sephiroth and all his clones, there were side-affects: mental degradation, mainly. Perhaps the scales are a physical side-effect – “

“And maybe the more you use the portal magic, the more it spreads!” said Bartz.

“It’s a good theory but I don't think that's the case.” Cloud thought about it. “Perhaps it’s when I produce energy from fighting, but really I think it’s been a steady thing.”

Bartz shrugged. “You know your body best. Trust your instincts. Also, I want to tell you...” Bartz leaned forward, put his forearms on the table in front of his empty plate, and said, “Even if the scales spread all over and you look like a strange half wyvern half man thing, just know that I will always be your friend, and I’ll stay by your side.”

The promise was surprisingly touching, and seemed to hit Cloud right in the heart where his insecurities lay. He’d never thought he was a vain person, and yet he was insecure about this change he could not stop, and so having Bartz beside him no matter what -

“That means a lot,” Cloud told Bartz. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome. I’m only worried about the pain you had been feeling.”

Cloud took a moment to think about how to explain. He decided on the straight truth:

“Honestly, I haven't felt much since we started this journey together. It's as if... being in your presence eases the pain. I can’t explain it...” Cloud shook his head. “It's strange. Why you?”

Bartz tilted his head to the side in thought. “I hold a shard of the Wind Crystal inside me. Maybe it's like Vincent's proto-materia? It neutralises the negative effects of whatever gift Shinryu gave you?”

Cloud frowned a little at the use of the word ‘gift’; up until now, he had thought of it more like a disease, or a curse. But Bartz had always had fresh perspectives on things, which was one of the traits Cloud really liked about him.

“I guess I’ll just have to stick around you even more,” said Bartz. He grinned at Cloud and leaned back in his chair. Then he put his arms above his head in a long stretch, eyes half-closed. The already low cut of his top went down even lower as his chest expanded, little bumps in the material indicating where his hardened nipples were. The whole picture was for Cloud rather obscene. Oblivious, Bartz covered his mouth with one hand and yawned, one small tear falling down the side of his face.

When he blinked out of it and slumped forward again, he looked at Cloud, looked away, then did a double-take.

“What happened?” Bartz demanded.

“What do you mean?” said Cloud gruffly.

Bartz pointed at his face. “You’re blushing. You’re blushing! How? Why? What’s different, what changed - ?”

“My face gets red when I drink alcohol,” Cloud lied smoothly. Bartz deflated, muttering to himself. Cloud said, “We better go back, have a bath, get some sleep. See if we can set our body clocks to Edge time.”


	3. Run and I’ll Chase You Down

Straight after school on a Friday afternoon, Cloud, Bartz, Tifa and Denzel packed the truck with tents, sleeping gear and food supplies, as well as a portable BBQ. Denzel was brimming with excitement, which filled Cloud with relief: when he’d first suggested a weekend road trip down to the Chocobo Stables, he’d thought that Denzel would hate the idea. Turned out, he’d needed very little convincing.

“Shotgun!” Denzel called as he jumped into the utility truck. Tifa got into the driver’s seat.

Cloud got on his bike and started it up. Bartz hopped on behind him. “You should let me ride up front,” said Bartz lowly, right into his ear, breath hot.

“Not today,” Cloud said, trying not to show how the euphemism had affected him. “I want us to get there by dinner time. Hold on tight.”

Bartz put his goggles on and obliged, circling his arms around Cloud’s middle. Ahead of them, Tifa pulled out of the drive. “Did you just call me slow?” Bartz shouted in his ear, trying to be heard over the roar of the engine.

“I called you a _beginner_ ,” Cloud elaborated.

Choco Billy had kept the place in good nick and Cloud’s racing birds in good health. Unfortunately the stables did not double as an inn, hence the need to pack camping gear, but Billy was as hospitable as he could be, showing Denzel and Bartz around and explaining some facts about some of the different breeds. Cloud owned two gold chocobos, but his black one was by far his favourite: it was majestic and strong, could race hard and had made Cloud a lot of money over the course of his racing career.

“I miss Boko,” Bartz confessed to Cloud later as they got the BBQ set up. Cloud sprayed oil and Bartz threw on the sausages. “He and I used to travel together, just the two of us. Then he went and found a mate and had a bunch of babies.” He looked at Cloud in the half-light, their outdoor cooking illuminated only from the lights from the barn and the porch. “You’re not going to run off and have babies and leave me alone, are you?”

Cloud snorted. “I wasn’t planning to, no.”

Bartz reached out and ruffled Cloud’s hair. He should have leant away from Bartz’s teasing, but the gesture brought upon him a feeling of deja vu, and he found himself longing for more of such affection. Bartz said, “You look kind of like a chocobo. With that hair, I mean.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “Such an original observation.”

Bartz pulled his hand away and jiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously. “Can I ride you?”

Cloud looked down at the meat sizzling away and flipped them. “Shut up, idiot,” he said affectionately.

Bartz chortled, the sound like a happy bird in Spring.

The next morning, Barret drove his truck into the estate and parked next to the ute. Out jumped Marlene and Yuffie, who went straight to goad Tifa into a game of football. Their energy was typical of two young people who had been stuck in a car all day, and so Bartz helped Tifa and Yuffie place out bales of hay as their goal posts. In the meantime, Cloud helped Barret unload his gear from his vehicle: tents and tent poles, swags and sleeping bags and pillows, boxes and cool boxes of food. “I fuckin’ hate camping,” was Barret’s greeting to Cloud, “after all those years on the damn road wi’choo. Whose bright fuckin’ idea was it.”

“Mine,” Cloud told him, not caring whether Barret liked it or not. It was good for Denzel and Marlene, and that was the main thing, in Cloud’s opinion. Cloud carried the cool boxes to the stable house while Barret, beside him, had his arms loaded with a large box. Cloud told Barret, “Denzel got… annoyed that Bartz was staying with us, so I thought it would be a good idea for all of us to spend some quality time together.”

Cloud expected Barret to call him a pansy for it, but instead he put the box down in the shelter and gave Cloud a speculative look. “Maybe my boy has a point,” and with that he strode out into the sun and onto the field where the others were discussing the rules and team set up for the game.

Cloud got a bad feeling. He set the cool boxes down and followed Barret.

The discussion stopped abruptly when Barret went right into Bartz’s personal space and looked him up and down. “You Bartz?”

Unperturbed, Bartz grinned up at him, fists on his hips. “That’s my name!”

Barret stared at him some more, then turned and walked back to the truck. As he passed Cloud he muttered, “Fuckin’ knew it.”

“Seems like you were the last to know,” Cloud retorted, following behind to unload more gear.

*

Bartz watched Cloud follow Barret to the truck. When Cloud looked over his shoulder back at Bartz, Bartz grinned and winked at him. He got a tiny smile in reply.

“Yeah we’re all pretty curious about ya,” Yuffie was saying. “Cloud doesn't usually just randomly bring men home.”

Bartz raised his eyebrows. “Good to know.”

Marlene stared up at him. “Are you Cloud’s boyfriend?”

“No,” Bartz laughed. He himself didn't care if people thought that, but he felt that Cloud probably wouldn't like it, so he stuck with the truth: “We’re just friends.”

“Oh, that sucks,” said Marlene; “Would've been nice.”

Denzel crossed his arms and glared at her.

She shrugged. “Don’t you want Cloud to be happy?” Marlene asked Denzel.

Denzel scowled. “Why can’t he be happy with Tifa?”

Tifa was taken aback. She told him gently, “Well, Cloud and I tried but... sometimes certain types of relationships don't work for certain types of people, and Cloud and I work better as good friends.”

“Likewise,” Bartz told Denzel, “Cloud and I are just friends.” _Although I would totally be up for more if Cloud wanted it, too,_ he thought.

Denzel scrutinised him. “But every night this week you've been sleeping together.”

Yuffie choked on a surprised laugh. Bartz reiterated, “Yeah. As friends.” It was difficult for Bartz to explain this almost symbiotic facet of his and Cloud’s friendship: that Bartz and Cloud slept in the same bed because it somehow gave Cloud pain relief. In fact, there was a guest room in Cloud and Tifa’s house with two single beds in it, but neither Cloud nor Bartz even mentioned or discussed Bartz staying in there. And so Bartz had taken up residence in Cloud’s personal space; had made room for himself in Cloud’s life, his home, and had mingled his scent with Cloud’s to the point that it would be difficult to separate the two without changing their dynamic and routine.

“You're both grown-ass men,” said Yuffie, “and yet you stay together like a couple of lonely crybabies. Whatever, let’s play ball!” She narrowed her eyes at Tifa. “I’m gonna kick your ass to the moon and back.”

Tifa snorted. “You can _try_.”

*

Bartz helped Barret and Cloud with dinner until Yuffie nagged Cloud and Bartz to join in, which had Barret grumbling that he had to serve the chicken, potatoes and pumpkin roast on his own. 

Cloud, Tifa and Marlene won the game, but barely.

At night, Bartz, Cloud and Denzel shared a tent. Bartz rolled into his side and spoke to Cloud, voice soft so as not to wake Denzel between them, “I had so much fun this weekend; I hope we can do it again.”

Cloud pushed himself up on his elbows. He looked at Denzel’s face, relaxed in sleep, before responded to Bartz with, “Me too. On the way home tomorrow I need to make a detour. Just letting you know.”

Bartz raised his eyebrows. “Should I come?”

“Might be a bit boring for you,” Cloud told him, “but you can come.”

Denzel stirred. “Thanks,” said Bartz. “Goodnight, Cloud!”

*

Bartz loved riding on the back of the bike with Cloud, wind in his hair and warm back pressed against his front, his arms either wrapped around Cloud’s waist or hands placed on Cloud’s hips.

Cloud took them to a cliff overlooking Midgar and Edge. He stopped and parked and got off the bike, Bartz following him to a patch of flowers.

“It's where Zack died,” Cloud told him, head low. The sun was high and the air hot, but the moment was sombre. He turned his face to the city; Bartz could no longer see his expression.

Was that why the cliff was barren except for this one flower patch? Bartz hesitated, wanting to ask the question that had been sitting with him for quite some time but not knowing if it was an appropriate moment. He said instead, “I don't think Zack is here.”

When Cloud looked at Bartz, his brow was creased.

“He was in the church,” Bartz explained. He shook his head slowly. “I don't sense anything at this site.”

Cloud looked down at the flowers. “He died violently, and he probably wants to be close to Aerith. And the Buster Sword – I moved it there.”

Bartz took a deep breath and asked, “Were the two of you... together?”

Cloud looked at him with wide, mako-bright eyes. “No,” he said.

“Oh,” said Bartz, feeling a little awkward. He had suspected that Cloud might be a deviant like himself, but unless he asked leading questions, how could he know?

Then Cloud said, “I loved him, though. But my feelings were unrequited.” He looked so awkward, and struggled to look Bartz in the eye.

But Bartz smiled. A part of him was jealous of this man whom Cloud held in high regard, who had a place in Cloud’s heart. But Bartz had also managed to obtain the information he had been seeking: that Cloud, like himself, could have romantic feelings for another man.

Happy days.

“He died because of me,” Cloud told Bartz. “He sacrificed himself to save me and I was too weak and I… couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save him, and I couldn’t save Aerith.” He shook his head. “I come here to remember I’m no good to anyone.”

Bartz stepped closer to Cloud; his borrowed leather jacket creaked a little as he leaned over and bumped shoulders with him. “Who said you have to save everyone?”

Cloud looked at him, like the question was extremely odd and unexpected. He frowned. “That’s what it means to be a hero.”

Bartz scratched his chin in thought. It felt rough from not having shaved in three days. “Does being a hero really mean saving everyone?” Bartz asked in a philosophical manner. “Well, who then saves the hero?”

“No one – “ began Cloud.

“Nonsense,” said Bartz. He put his fists on his hips. “I’ll be your hero: I’ll protect you.”

Cloud gave him a long look. Then he snorted.

Bartz put the back of his hand against his forehead and mock-swooned. “It’s a hard job being the hero of a hero,” Bartz sighed, “but alas, someone must do it and I will prevail!”

Cloud snorted again - that was about as much laughter as Bartz could get out of Cloud on any day - and shook his head in exasperation and said, “You sound like Firion.”

“Oh gods,” Bartz groaned, “I sound like Firion!”

“You really do.”

“I sound like Firi…” Bartz trailed off. “I miss everyone.” He stared at the broken city, at its unwelcoming hard edges. It looked like a dead spider on its back. “You know…” Bartz began, not sure how Cloud would react to his next words, but pushing on with them anyway, “I don’t think your feelings for Zack were unrequited.”

Cloud’s eyes shuttered as he too, looked out at the view. “He had a girlfriend.”

“You sure about that?” Bartz raised an eyebrow at Cloud, but Cloud still wasn’t looking at him. “If he sacrificed himself to save you, and his spirit is still hanging around the church, still watching over you – “

“It doesn’t matter,” said Cloud sharply. “What’s the point of living with regrets? I was supposed to… supposed to go out to dinner with him… He was – was supposed to meet my mum. There were moments, and then there were moments that didn’t happen and I... I never got to have them because shit got in the way and now he’s dead, he’s been dead for _years_ , so what does it matter?”

Cloud looked at Bartz then, with fire in his eyes.

“I could get stuck in the past with ghosts,” Cloud told Bartz slowly, voice starting to break, just a little, “or I could nourish the friendships I have now.”

Bartz nodded. He didn’t know what to say. Eventually he said, “The mirror world was good for you, huh?”

“It gave me a goal and it gave me more friends. Yes… yes. Mirror world was good.”

“I’m glad I went too,” Bartz confessed. He breathed in deeply. “I’m glad I met you.”

Cloud looked at him and Bartz looked back and there was a moment – just a second – where Bartz thought he could maybe just angle his whole body and lean over and kiss Cloud in comfort, softly, on the down-turned corner of his mouth –

Then Cloud glanced past Bartz and over the cliff, eyes wide. “That’s – “ Cloud started, and then Bartz looked too –

Down past the cliff and over the barren ground, a portal was growing.

Fear gripped Bartz. Over the cliff edges and heading towards Edge, he saw the two utility trucks with Denzel and Tifa in one, and Yuffie, Marlene and Barret in the other.

Then the manikins came.

At first it was just Warrior of Light, who stopped at the bottom of the portal and looked up and straight at Cloud. Then other manikins poured out after him, all running toward the cliff as if they meant to run up its steep slope right at Cloud.

“We have to distract them from the others – “

“They’re after you,” Bartz reminded Cloud; he knew Denzel and Marlene’s safety would be Cloud’s primary concern, but right now, Bartz was only worried about Cloud. He grabbed Cloud’s arm and steered him to the bike. “You want to keep the manikins away from the populated areas? Then ride.”

Another portal formed near the last one. And yes, it seemed the manikin horde from the first portal were attempting to climb the cliff. Cloud got on the bike and Bartz jumped on behind him, and then Cloud was revving the bike and was riding off.

The second portal started to spill out manikins like a surf wave. Then a third portal opened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Bartz muttered. Then he shouted in Cloud’s ear, “Damn those manikins really want you!”

“I’m going to need Tifa’s help!” Cloud shouted back at him. “And Barret’s!”

“Then circle the city!” Bartz suggested. “I have an idea!”

Bartz saw in the distance the two trucks stopping next to each other and swapping passengers. He couldn’t see who swapped the which, though, but he could guess that one truck would be joining the fight and the other would be getting the teenagers to safety.

True to Bartz’s commands, Cloud seemed to be circling the large cluster city that was Edge and Midgar, but he kept his distance. The manikin horde was pelting after them full force, and if they even slowed just a little, the manikins would gain ground on them.

A Noctis manikin was heading the horde, warping ahead with determination.

Bartz lifted himself up a little, using the sides of the bike’s compartments as something to stand on. Holding onto the back of the collar of Cloud’s leather jacket with one hand, he could half twist around and hold up his bracelet accessory with the materia with the other.

He took a deep breath, and started shooting off spells.

Firaga, Blizzaga and Thundaga shot off from his hand in succession, hitting one manikin or small groups of them. He threw them out as Cloud rode his bike harder. _What a pair we make_ , Bartz thought then. In the distance, he saw Tifa on the back of her truck performing a summon.

Cloud saw her too. “She has Knights of the Round,” he said in relief.

“That’s great!” said Bartz, though he had no idea what that summon was or what it could do. “Problem is, those portals are still open and the manikins keep coming! You think you can close them?”

“I don’t think so,” Cloud told him honestly. “But I have a summon materia of my own I could cast. I just need some time.”

“Say no more!” said Bartz, and he summoned wind to slash and torment in a violent spherical tornado, halting the manikins for a time.

Cloud brought the bike to a stop and then held out his own arm. The red materia on his vambrace glowed, and then from the rolling, rendered sky came a large dragon.

With loud flaps of its wings it flew down to Cloud and landed in front of him.

*

Neo-Bahamut caused dust to cloud up as he landed. He bowed his great, dark head. Cloud said, “Destroy all the mankins. They are our enemy.”

Neo-Bahamut looked deep into Cloud’s eyes, then he seemed to say, right into Cloud’s mind: “I shall destroy your enemies, my king.”

And then he was flying off and over the manikin horde. He blew fire over them, and their crystalline bodies seemed to melt and disintegrate under his attack.

Cloud and Bartz rode off again. Even with Bahamut and Knights of the Round working together to rid Cloud’s world of such a large threat, still the manikins kept coming.

“I have to make another portal,” Cloud told Bartz, voiced raised to be heard over the roar of the wind in their ears.

“If we go into another world, they should leave this one alone,” Bartz agreed.

 _I hate this_ , Cloud thought to himself.

Then it got worse.

The Noctis manikin succeeded in catching up to them, warping over the bike then cutting down with his broadsword. Cloud heard Bartz yell as he jumped off the bike to dodge the attack. Cloud stopped his bike immediately and saw Bartz kill Noctis, but then the horde was a few seconds away from him –

Cloud screamed internally and turned his bike around. _I need save him - !_

 _Do not,_ a deep voice rumbled in his mind. It was enough to make Cloud pause. _The manikins will not destroy the Dawn Warrior while he is not protecting you._

_You must run._

_You must save us._

Cloud closed his eyes briefly as he turned his vehicle away and sped off, away from Bartz, and the horde. Everything in his gut wanted to go back to Bartz, fight alongside him, but the voice in head had a point: the manikins were after Cloud, and if Cloud drove off in the opposite direction to Bartz, there was a chance they would leave Bartz alone to pursue Cloud. So that's what he did.

 _Shinryu?_ Cloud asked the voice.

There was no answer.

*

 _Thank the gods,_ Bartz thought as he saw Cloud ride off, _my man is learning not to be a hero._

Bartz used his rapid fire mystic knight technique to dispatch of Noctis and the other manikins closest to him. The manikins who had been dashing over to join the fray changed direction and followed Cloud instead.

It didn't take long for the utility truck to reach his position.

It slowed but did not stop, and as it passed Bartz, he and Tifa reached out their hands and grabbed one another, Tifa pulling Bartz into the tray. Next to her, Barret had a grip on the bull bar with his one hand and was shooting manikins with the other.

“Thanks!” said Bartz to Tifa as the truck picked up speed. He looked around. “Who’s driving?”

“Denzel,” she told him with a grimace. “I know he’s only twelve, but I’ve been teaching him a bit – “

“I’m not judging!” Bartz grinned. “I’ve been riding chocobos since I was a sprog.”

“Not quite the same thing.” She looked like she might laugh if she wasn't in such a stressful situation. 

“Ya’ll need to come up with a plan!” Barret yelled at them over noise of the truck. “’Cause imma ‘bout to run outta bullets, and this truck is running on fumes.”

“Cloud has to make a portal,” said Bartz. “That’s the only plan we’ve got.”

“He won't leave without you,” said Tifa, “so we need to... make enough of a distraction then reunite the two of you.”

“Mastered Geomancer should do the trick!” Bartz told her. “But I'll need two hands.”

Tifa pulled out her PHS from her pocket and one-handedly called Cloud from her contact list. “Hey. Bartz is going to block the horde with a wall of earth. As that’s happening we have to get closer to you and you have to open a portal in the small window of opportunity. Think you can pull it off?” Tifa smirked at Bartz while listening to Cloud’s reply. “Okay, see you soon.” She flipped the PHS closed. “I’ll hold onto your belt as you do the spell,” she informed Bartz. “You ready?”

“It's now or never!” Bartz said with a grin, and she held the bar tight with one hand and his borrowed trouser belt with the other. Bartz faced the rear of the moving vehicle, lifted his hands into the air and cast the spell.

Deafening rumbles of earth erupted from the ground, one after another, halting the path of the manikin horde. Not too far off, Cloud stopped his bike and summoned a portal which materialised almost instantly. Denzel steered the car towards it, and Tifa let go of Bartz’s belt to grab his hand.

“You ready?” she prompted.

“I was born for this!” Bartz replied. And as the speeding truck passed by Cloud and the portal, Bartz, Tifa and Cloud jumped through, leaving their vehicles and friends behind.

*

Cloud performed a landing roll as he came out of the portal, the action kicking up clouds of fine sand. Hot air blew around him and Tifa and Bartz, who had also landed into this new world in similar gracefulness. Behind them, the portal closed in on itself with a sound like water down a cosmic sinkhole.

Cloud brushed off his knees as he stood up. Bartz said, pulling off his jacket and looking around, “Why do we always land in deserts?”

“A lot of worlds have a lot of deserts,” Cloud quipped.

Bartz tied his jacket around his waist. “And why do you guys wear so much black? Black _absorbs_ the heat of the sun; every traveller knows that. You should put more colour in your fashion.”

Tifa stepped forward and changed the subject completely by stating, “There seems to be green mountains in the distance.” She pointed behind Cloud and he saw said mountains, their uneven outlines making up the horizon. “That’s where we need to head.”

Bartz pulled his goggles down over his eyes. “It's good enough for me!” He walked ahead in that direction.

Cloud walked behind him, with Tifa. She was giving him an imploring look which he only managed to ignore for ten seconds. “What is it?” he asked her lowly.

“Those manikins were after you. They came into _our world_ , after you.”

“I know,” said Cloud, gritting his teeth. He watched Bartz’s back as he walked ahead of them.

“Having these new powers must be great and all,” she continued, “but the price is too high. And why are they even after you? Are they trying to kill you?”

Cloud had forgotten Tifa had not been present during the final battle on the mirror world. He closed his eyes briefly and contemplated how to explain, and how much information to give. Then he watched Bartz again and made a decision.

He stopped walking.

The others stopped too; Bartz looked over his shoulder. Cloud began, “I need to tell you something that happened to me in the last battle –“

“Can’t we walk and talk?” Bartz interrupted with a rueful grin. “Kinda hot out here.”

Cloud stepped up next to him and Tifa did the same, on Cloud’s other side. They walked together.

“During the last battle,” Cloud continued, “I heard a voice in my head.”

Bartz groaned, “Oh jeez,” at the same time Tifa exclaimed, “Are you serious right now? Last time you heard voices in your head we ended up in some hot water.”

“I know,” Cloud confessed. “The only other time I heard his – Shinryu’s – voice was during the final battle when I was in his stomach. Back then, I wasn't sure if it was really him, but I'm sure now.”

“And what did he say?” said Bartz.

“During the final battle? Something like, ‘You are worthy,’ which made me think later that he had passed on his powers. But now I'm thinking...”

“That he might actually be inside you?” Bartz speculated. “Like, in spirit?”

“Maybe.”

“And this battle just gone?” demanded Tifa. “What did he say?”

Cloud frowned as he tried to remember the exact words. “Something like, ‘The Dawn Warrior will not be harmed by the horde while he is not protecting you. Run. Save us.’ This was right after the Noctis manikin knocked you off the bike,” he added to Bartz.

Tifa said, “If he's inside you, we need to get him out – “

“Wait,” said Bartz. “Shinryu told Cloud ‘save us’. We're talking about an all powerful god here; a god even our friends plus our enemies put together couldn't completely beat if what we're speculating is true and he is in Cloud right now. I read in a book once that the Ancient people of my world, who had great magic and knowledge, also tried to beat him.”

“There's a book on how to beat Shinryu?” Tifa demanded. “Why are we walking through a desert when we could be going to your world and reading it?”

“I’m not sure I could get us there,” said Cloud. “I mean, I could try – “

“No point,” Bartz told him. “Firstly, it's not a whole book, only a chapter, which I’ve already read. Secondly, the Ancients failed to destroy him, so they sealed him away for a thousand years instead. Thirdly, the book isn't in my world, it's in the Interdimensional Rift, which I don't recommend going to unless we absolutely have to. Did you know that if you get a mortal wound there, you can get stuck there forever? And there's really powerful monsters too.”

“I think we pass through the Rift every time we pass through a portal,” Cloud admitted.

“I thought it was the Void,” said Bartz.

“What's the difference?”

“The Void is the sentient space between the worlds which can both make or destroy... well, anything in the universe. You can communicate with the Void via the Rift; attempting that from any other place –“

“Can flick you right out of reality,” Tifa finished quietly. She wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “I remember the sacrifice we made in the Twelfth Cycle.”

Bartz looked sheepish. “I... wasn't there. To do the sacrifice, I mean.”

“Neither was I,” said Cloud, thinking. “But one thing I remember from that cycle was that manikins came from the Void. Is that's what's happening now?”

“I suspect that Materia and Spiritus are creating manikins to follow you, using a...” Tifa thought for a moment. “I don’t know... some kind of Void materia or crystal? But do you know what just occurred to me?”

Cloud and Bartz looked at her with identical enquiring looks.

Tifa said, “Jenova and Shinryu are kind of similar. They were both destructive, they both were sealed away by the ancient people of our worlds thousands of years ago.”

Bartz’s face lit up. “Maybe they're cousins!”

Tifa laughed a little. “Interesting theory but not very helpful.” She sobered. “What are we going to do? How are we going to get rid of him this time?”

“Maybe we can't,” Bartz said quietly, frowning. “We could perform an exorcism, but what if it's not just a spirit in there, what if it's a little dragon egg, or a little seed – “

“Bartz,” Cloud interrupted, feeling breathless, “you’re scaring me.”

They looked at each other, though Cloud could not entirely gauge Bartz’s expression because his eyes were hidden by his bangs and his goggles.

Cloud’s chest constricted.

“Hey guys?” Tifa interrupted. “Something is… coming.”

They all looked out to the horizon to see the large, rounded, approaching vehicle.

“Is that a floating castle or something?” said Bartz. “Kind of weird looking.”

“I was going to say a war tank,” said Tifa, “but I like yours better.”

Cloud swallowed down the lump in his throat, a discomfort exacerbated by hot, dry air. “Let’s hope they’re more friend than foe.”

A complicated structure, Cloud’s first thought was that it looked like a giant land shark with a halo. As it neared his wariness only grew, and by the time it opened its giant maw to let them freely walk in, Cloud was clenching his jaw against his fear. He resisted the urge to rub his stomach. _Shinryu,_ he thought, _are you in there?_ Was this dragon inside him?

No answer.

Cloud followed Bartz and Tifa up the rail and into the hatch.

*

Funnily enough, neither Bartz nor Tifa had been incorrect with their guesses; in fact, the place was like a castle but also like a war machine.

Various uniformed cadets walked down the plant-lined foyer towards them and stared at the triumvirate, but Bartz was only interested in the man who entered the foyer behind them.

“Squall!” Bartz grinned, waving his arms in the air to get Squall’s attention. “Thank the gods!” He ran towards Squall and threw his arms around him, the momentum making Squall spin Bartz in his arms.

A feeling like lead being dropped weighed down Cloud’s stomach at the sight.

A woman with straight dark hair marched past Squall and Bartz toward them, the tilt of her chin signifying confidence and determination. She stopped in front of Cloud and Tifa and shook their hands. “I’m Rinoa!” she announced with a grin. “Squall’s girlfriend. Waaayyy out of his league, of course. Welcome to Balamb Garden.”

“I’m Tifa, it’s nice to meet you.” Tifa’s ease with conversation was something Cloud had always envied. “And this is Cloud. What is this place?”

“A military school,” said Rinoa, “of which I am not a student. Oh, that’s a long story, let’s not go there. You guys are from World B, right?”

Cloud and Tifa exchanged glances. “We’re not _from_ there, as such,” Tifa explained, “but we are from the same world. Sorry, I – you were pulled into that world too? When?”

“Only recently,” Rinoa told her with a roll of her eyes, “and now we’re back… I missed all the action! I’m still annoyed about that. Okay so anyway – “ she sidled up to Tifa and looped her arm in hers – “you are now my new best friend. So let me let you in on a little secret…” Rinoa and Tifa walked off, arm-in-arm. “The milkshakes here? Very, very good. Like, kind of the best in the world. Like, the fact that you made it here to drink these milkshakes is a real godly effort, like whole prophecies were written about you, coming here, meeting me, and drinking these milkshakes…”

Cloud walked up to Bartz and Squall. Bartz was saying, “It was quite a difference, like walking through the door to a larder.”

“What are you guys talking about?” said Cloud.

“Bartz was explaining the way the portals felt,” Squall told him, “as you passed through them.”

“And I was saying that the last one felt very different to travelling from the mirror world to your world,” Bartz added.

Cloud explained, “When I thought about coming here, I thought, ‘take us to the closest world.’ I guess distance plays a role in the effect of the passing.”

Squall tilted his head to the door Rinoa and Tifa were just now passing through. “Let’s go to the Cafeteria and talk more.”

“Food is good,” Bartz agreed, following beside him.

Cloud tried not to feel left out as he followed behind them, and told himself he often liked the solitary. The fact that food was in his immediate future actually did make him feel better.

*

“I like your jacket,” Bartz said to Squall an hour later, fingering the zip a little, deliberately flirtatious. Squall, sitting at the table next to him, let him, though his hard expression portrayed his disinterest.

“Bartz,” said Squall, voice deep with exasperation, “What are you even doing here?”

Bartz started playing with Squall’s zip, zipping it up and down with _zzt zzt_ noises. “Where the wind blows, that’s the way I go,” he told Squall cockily. Behind them, Tifa and Cloud were helping Rinoa with everyone’s post-lunch drink orders at the food bar.

Bold, Bartz zipped the jacket down and opened it. His eyes widened and he looked at Squall. “You – “

Squall snapped his jacket shut.

“ – still have my lucky feather,” Bartz finished, with a feeling of wonderment that must surely be showing on his face. “You keep it on your person all the time? In your inner pocket? Since the… the thirteenth cycle?”

Squally was scowling. “I appreciate now the gift even if I hadn’t back then,” he told him, with effort.

Bartz stared at Squall so hard he didn’t even notice Cloud approach until two milkshakes slammed onto the table in front of them so hard they exploded upwards with liquid, splashing Squall and Bartz with flavoured milk.

“Oh gosh!” Rinoa exclaimed, as she approached the table. “Messy, and such a waste. Sucks for you guys!” She slurped her milkshake from her straw obnoxiously and stared at Bartz with wide, unblinking eyes, like she knew that Bartz had been flirting with her boyfriend and she was _not_ impressed. Behind her, Tifa sipped her drink. Then Rinoa barked. “Bartz! Tifa and I are going to the Training Centre, aren’t we Tifa?” Tifa nodded along. “You should come with us, let Squall and Cloud have some _man talk._ ”

Bartz blinked up at her. “I am a ma – “

“You will come with us,” said Rinoa with finality, and pivoted and strode off across the room, Tifa, and eventually Bartz, following behind.

*

Squall was scowling as he stood, wiping away the drink from his trousers with napkins. “You have no right to be jealous,” he told Cloud.

Cloud stared at him incredulously. “…I have every right to feel what I feel,” he retorted eventually. There was a resentful fire burning inside him, and Squall was not helping quell the flames.

“Sure, on the inside,” said Squall, crossing his arms, “but you should keep emotions to yourself.”

“To what end?” Cloud wanted to know. “So they can be bottled up?”

“If need be.”

“You – “ Cloud cut himself off with a shake of his head. He and Squall were of different worlds, different cultures, different _mentalities._ This concept of repressing emotion did not sit well with how Cloud was brought up; in actuality, _Cloud_ was considered the unemotional one amongst his peers back home.

“I don’t have feelings for Bartz in that way,” Squall told him matter-of-factly. He didn’t look embarrassed to say it. “Rinoa is my girlfriend, and I love her.”

With a sigh through his nose and a tilt of his head, Cloud capitulated. “I can’t take back what is already done.”

Squall shrugged. He scrutinised Cloud some more, then asked, “What are you doing here, Cloud?”

Cloud glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“Here, in my world,” Squall elaborated. “Last I saw you, you and Bartz and Tifa were heading to your world. Now you’re here in mine. Which makes me think that when you went to your world, there was a problem.”

Cloud was coy. “Maybe Bartz just wanted to go on adventures so I let him convince me.”

Squall’s gaze was shrewd. “Doubtful. If that were the case Tifa would not be with you.”

Cloud’s brow creased. “She might have – “

“Tifa’s like Lightning: a defender, not an adventurer. Besides, it’s obvious from your behaviour today that any adventuring with Bartz you would prefer to do alone, just the two of you. No. There’s another reason.” His scrutiny of Cloud was unwavering, and he shifted his stance from a thoughtful lean to a wider brace. “The manikins followed you to your world.”

Cloud said nothing as he stared back at Squall. His silence was confirmation enough.

Squall finally tore his eyes away and seemed to look into the distance. He was deliberating, eyes moving back and forth as if making calculations.

Cloud watched him for a moment, then said, “We’ll leave your world – “

“No,” said Squall, looking at him again. “Why run when you can fight?”

Cloud hated this kind of backward attitude that men like Squall, Cecil and Firion seemed to possess: this idea that it was always better to run headlong into battle, as if that was the best show of courage. Cloud did not care for courage, and he bit back his retort of, _Why fight when you can run?_

But beyond Squall’s hard attitude there was real kindness there, and it was Cloud’s turn to scrutinise, to get a good look at Squall’s face and body language. “You would… help me? Fight them?”

Squall raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

Cloud narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Then, he slowly began to realise:

“You want to fight the manikin horde. But you’re not going to do it for me.”

There was an uptick at the corner of Squall’s mouth – an almost smile, as if he were proud of Cloud. “Look around,” Squall said. “This is a military school at a time of peace.”

“Oh.” Cloud understood. “Fighting a manikin horde is a perfect opportunity for war games.”

Squall grabbed his half-empty drink turned to the door. “Follow me,” he said.

Squall led Cloud down several corridors and up another floor to a vacant debriefing room, in the centre of which was a large table laden with a model of the map of the world. Cloud was impressed by it; but the shapes of the continents, the slopes of mountains and the political lines meant very little to him. The two of them slowly circled the table until they were on opposite sides. Squall surmised, “It’s been around… ten days? Since I saw you last. Which means it took ten days for the manikins to find you in your world. Does that mean we now have nine and a half days until they come to mine?”

“Less, I think,” Cloud admitted. “When we got back to my world, the secret agent who picked us up told us she had been studying the residue left behind after a portal closes. I’m guessing that the manikins can somehow figure out where I’m going by examining this… signature.”

“Then we don’t have long at all,” said Squall, looking at the map. Then he pointed to a section to the south. “This continent is mostly uninhabited, and there’s a valley that ends in a cliff. If we can lure the manikins there, we can bottle-neck their attack.”

Cloud was looking at Squall and not the map, brow creased in doubt. “We fought the horde on World B, and lost.”

Squall’s eyes flickered up to him. “Yes,” he said with barely concealed impatience, “but this time we have Balamb Garden. I’m going to contact our allies: Trabia Garden will respond to the call, I don’t doubt. And Esthar, too, though I do not look forward to that conversation. Galbadia…” Squall grimaced. “They might help if only because to not come would look like cowardice.” Squall gazed at the map for a moment as he thought. “Even the brute force of the combined armies might not be enough. We need an edge. Can manikins swim?”

“…I’m not sure,” Cloud said honestly.

“Once I have an inventory of ships I will be able to confirm, but I think attacking from the sea is relatively safe. In the meantime, you head into the valley. If you get into a battle you can’t handle, can you portal out?”

“Technically. But creating portals sap my energy pretty quickly.”

Squall straightened. “You would only need to portal yourself a short distance to get yourself out of the valley. Use Garden’s training facilities tomorrow to test your portalling endurance.” He nodded to himself then sipped his milkshake with satisfaction. “I have a plan now.”

*

Bartz, Rinoa and Tifa fought a T-Rex in the training area. When they were done, Tifa went to the side and picked up her smoothie and slurped noisily from its straw.

“Guess you’re pretty good at this fighting stuff,” said Rinoa to Bartz.

Bartz shrugged, relaxing into a post-battle ease. “I’m pretty strong, and versatile.”

Rinoa circled him, smirking. “Good for you, baby. Sadly for you, I’m far more powerful than you are. And if you hit on my boyfriend again, I’ll squash you like a fly.”

Bartz’s easy smile faltered. From the side-lines, Tifa crowed, “Ouch!”

Bartz put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, you’re right, it was a bad move on my part and I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did it; I mean, I _used_ to have a crush on him, ages ago, but I don’t anymore.”

“Glad to hear it.” She nodded to him in a gesture of forgiveness. “So,” she said standing up straight, “this is how it’s going to go. I’m going to give you some training, because when I look at Cloud, I see a little of... myself in him.”

On the side, Tifa made a small, interested noise.

“He’s powerful,” Rinoa elaborated, “and troubled. And needs your help.”

“I’m always happy to help Cloud in anything he wants,” Bartz started, as a disclaimer. “But, if someone is powerful, do they really need help?”

“Absolutely,” said Rinoa. “We have an ideal, here: the concept of sorceress and knight. I am a sorceress, a powerful one... and quite frankly, there are whole nations who wish I didn’t exist.”

Tifa’s brow creased in concern.

“Cloud is the same,” said Rinoa. “He’s too powerful for any army or nation to fully contain, and he has very human emotion, which makes him both vulnerable and unstable. Are you getting what I’m trying to say? You need to be Cloud’s knight, Bartz.”

Bartz inhaled deeply. He would be Cloud’s knight. He would be the best damn knight in all the worlds.

“Me and Cloud, we need protection,” Rinoa continued. “We need protection from those who would repress us, from those who would harm us, emotionally. We need guidance, and protection from... from ourselves. We need someone to keep us in check, to make sure we’re not murdering people because we can, because of pride, because our feelings are hurt. Because we have that kind of power. To have the power to destroy... it’s...” She looked out in the distance, her words caught in her throat.

“Just because you can kill someone, doesn’t mean you should,” said Tifa quietly. “Is that what you mean?”

Rinoa nodded slowly. “Sometimes the power gets to your head. _His_ head.” She turned her gaze to Bartz, slowly, and looked unblinkingly into his eyes.

“I’ll be his knight,” Bartz told her. “I’ll stay by his side.” He looked down at his boots. “That's the easiest promise I've made in a long time. But.” He looked up at Rinoa, imploring her with his eyes not to judge harshly for what he would say next: “I thought about kissing him, you know.”

Tifa made a wordless exclamation and stepped up to them. She touched his arm, briefly, and when Bartz looked at her, he only saw encouragement in her eyes. 

“It was at Zack’s grave,” he confessed, with effort. He nodded at Tifa’s alarmed, horrified look. “Exactly. Does that make me a bad person?”

“The fact that you're worrying about it proves that you're not,” Tifa reassured softly.

Rinoa looked amused. “We all think naughty things at inappropriate moments now and then. It’s normal.” She tilted her head. “Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

Bartz laughed nervously. “Definitely not! I don't know how I feel... Our friendship is more important than my feelings. Besides, I probably messed up my chances after flirting with Squall.”

“I don't know...” Tifa mused. “I think you just made him jealous; that might work in your favour.”

*

Cloud had dinner with Squall and Quistis in the Briefing Room as they continued to discuss strategies. They would concentrate the battle on the Centran continent, with armies on land and beach, and ships just beyond the area that Cloud would lure the horde. Squall had limited communication with the other nations, so he sent couriers to Galdbadia, Trabia and Esthar with his propositions. Later, President Cid and Sorceress Edea joined them in the Briefing Room with their questions. The president signed the necessary paperwork after long discussions with Squall and Cloud, and the drafting of official standards for the war to come were finalised. It was to have an official name, though they would not think of a fitting one that night.

Later at night Cloud was shown to his room, which appeared to be a vacant cadet’s room, with a small bed up against one wall and a desk against another. He did his ablutions and dressed himself in Balamb Garden issued pyjamas, and crawled into bed, the muscles of his back aching under the scales.

Exhaustion made it difficult to get up for breakfast in the morning, but get up he did, dragging himself to more negotiations with Squall’s senior colleagues. To know that Galbadian forces had been invited to the war made most people uneasy, but Squall explained away their worries, convincing them that _not_ extending an invitation could be seen as an insult.

Cloud’s fatigue caught up to him by lunch time; a deep thrum was felt behind his eyes and in his cheeks, and he daydreamed about Bartz. He daydreamed of the smooth cut of Bartz’s collar bones, the strap of his tank top dropping to the side of one shoulder. He daydreamed about exposing Bartz’s navel as Cloud ran his calloused hands under his clothes and found soft, firm skin there, and wondered about the hair on his hard thighs, the hair of his groin. Would the scent of him permeate there, where Cloud could bury his nose in, get his fill –

“Commander,” an officer interrupted, “there’s a video call for you from President Loire.”

Next to Cloud, Squall put down his sandwich as Cloud adjusted himself, glad that no one could see how turned on he was under the table. Squall told the officer he would take the call on a workstation in the closest classroom, and after a moment of steady breathing did Cloud follow him there reluctantly.

The classroom was filled with bulky consoles linked up together in lines, and Squall picked one at random. When the call connected, the man on the screen looked familiar.

“Hey kid,” greeted the president with a lopsided grin, “here to report my armada and I are on our way.”

“That was fast,” Squall drawled with what appeared to be very little interest, but Cloud thought he must have been happy for such a rapid response.

“Who's the pretty man behind you?” said the president, looking at Cloud.

Squall looked between them. “You don't recognise each other? Cloud Strife, meet President Laguna.”

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up. Laguna had been in the Twelfth Cycle while Cloud had been in Chaos’s army, where he’d deliberately avoided most people. As they greeted each other formally, Tifa, Bartz and Rinoa walked in.

“Tifa!” Laguna exclaimed with joy when Tifa got within camera scope. Then his expression turned flirtatious. “Still gorgeous as usual.”

Tifa let out an embarrassed laugh, one hand on her hip. “Hey... how are you?”

Rinoa leaned over Tifa and quipped something that made Laguna run a hand through his hair with the first sign of nerves, but Cloud was no longer listening. He turned to Bartz, pleased, and smiled at him.

Bartz smiled back, eyes a little wide like he was surprised to see Cloud happy. Truthfully, Cloud _was_ happy: he hadn't seen Bartz since yesterday, and had been thinking about him.

There was an awkward moment of aborted movements, as if they both meant to lean over and hug one another. But then Cloud let his smile fade, and Bartz told him, sober, “I need to apologise to you.”

Cloud frowned. “What for? I’m the one who needs to say sorry for spilling your shake.”

Bartz dismissed this with an airy wave of his hand. “Nah, that was justified. I was... dismissive... on the cliff. So you know... Sorry.”

“You didn't offend me,” Cloud said quietly. “You don't need to – “

Bartz put a hand on Cloud’s shoulder. He grinned. “Just accept it, okay? And just leave it as that.” He put his hand down. “So this war, huh?”

“Yeah,” said Cloud, with an unsure twist of his mouth. “We’ve fought them before; can we really beat them this time?”

“I don't know... but one thing’s for sure, I’m ready!” Bartz put his fists on his hips and puffed up his chest. “I've mastered my knight job class, and I’m ready to defend you with my mighty shield! We should go to the training room and I can show you my parries.”

“Good idea; I need to practice my portals.”

Behind them, Laguna said something that made Rinoa laugh and Squall cross his arms with a scowl. “We should have a ball!” Rinoa suggested.

Squall’s scowl was directed at her. “This is a time of war; we won’t have time for silly parties.”

“No, she's right,” Laguna cut in. “You should throw a party for Galbadia.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Squall snapped at him.

Laguna raised his eyebrows. “Kid, this is not just about kicking manikin ass; it's political. Esthar doesn't need a ball thrown for it but we _would_ like a banquet if you can whip one up by the time we get there –“

“A ball!” Rinoa exclaimed, still stuck on that. “Tifa and I will do all the organising, don't you worry your pretty head, baby.”

Somehow Squall’s scowl deepened. “You had better; I will have zero time.”

“Cloud and I are going to the training room, now,” Bartz sing-songed, grabbing Cloud’s arm and gently pulling him from the room. When they were out and walking down the corridor, Bartz commented, “Gosh what a brouhaha.”

Cloud hummed in agreement. “I think Squall feels he needs to amass the world’s armies in only a few days. It stresses him out. And I’d never realised what went into doing such a thing.”

Bartz was nodding. “It's not just about making sure you have enough weapons in your inventory. Apparently the new commander of the Galbadian army is a real stick-in-the-mud. Can you imagine trying to get all the world leaders together and then motivate them to _not_ kill you and each other?”

“Yeah,” Cloud agreed shakily. He’d always preferred the ‘destroy now, ask questions never’ approach to fighting. But there was something to be said for the skill of planning and convincing; it took a certain mind to coerce the incoercible minds.

*

Two days later, there was a knock at Cloud’s door. He turned from looking at himself in the mirror and went to answer it, tugging self-consciously at the hem of the Seed uniform.

The ball was tonight, and every member of the war counsel and their plus ones were to attend. It would be a short event, for tomorrow they would go out into the field. Commander Joss Morgan of the Galbadian army would be in attendance, as well as Commander Selphie, who had arrived shortly after President Loire.

Cloud opened his bedroom door.

Bartz grinned at him and spread his arms. “How do I look?” He swaggered into Cloud’s sleeping quarters and performed a graceful turn, showing off his form-fitting Seed uniform.

“You look like you can’t dress yourself,” Cloud teased, coming over and fixing Bartz’s collar where it was partly tucked against his neckline. Cloud subtlety inhaled Bartz’s scent as he did so, taking advantage of the proximity.

Bartz was grinning at him lopsidedly. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he told Cloud in a low tone Cloud rarely heard from Bartz. Cloud felt his cheeks heat with the way the baritone made him feel, but the moment was broken by loud crooning outside from Irvine:

“Helloooo ladies! I can’t tell which one of you I like more: the hot one or the sexy one.”

“Oh god well aren’t you a _charmer_ ,” Cloud heard Rinoa say sarcastically.

Tifa said to Irvine, more quietly, “I think maybe keeping your opinions to yourself _might_ be a good idea.”

“How can I when you look like _that_?” said Irvine. “May I accompany both of you? One arm for each lady – “

“Fucking Hyne, get out of my way,” said Rinoa.

“That would be a definitive no,” retorted Tifa.

Cloud and Bartz went out onto the landing and saw Rinoa and Tifa push past a flummoxed Irvine to get to the elevator. They both looked stunning in long, flowing dresses of charmeuse and chiffon bunched around their waists to accentuate their figures, their dark hair loose and lightly ironed into waves.

“Wow,” said Bartz, grinning so hard his eyes were slitted into half-moons, “and I thought _I_ was a terrible flirt.”

“You are still a terrible flirt,” Cloud teased, and Bartz knocked his elbow into Cloud’s side in retaliation. “You just prefer to flirt with all the men.”

“It’s the men I like!” Bartz protested with a little laugh. Amused, they joined Irvine in the lift, and went to the event.

*

Bartz sipped his drink as he listened to Morgan and Squall discuss the Manikin War. The party was in full swing, with couples taking advantage of the orchestra and the ballroom space to dance.

“Perhaps Balamb Garden should compensate Galbadia for their efforts in coming to their aid,” Morgan was saying with her deep, sly voice. The woman was older than them, with partly braided blonde hair and skin tanned leathery-dark by the sun. Belligerent and intelligent, she’d lived a hard life, making a career for herself in military service dominated by men. “It took a lot of money to get us here. And for what? To fight to defend _your_ friend?” She gestured blithely to where Cloud was standing across the room, looking still and disinterested, but also, in Bartz’s opinion, devilishly handsome.

“Balamb Garden will do no such thing,” Squall drawled. “You are here by invitation; if you had refused there would have been no consequence or punishment against your country.”

“Perhaps not in writing,” said Morgan with a small sneer, “but you would have used it to erode our reputation.”

“And yet you are here,” said Squall, voice clipped, and with little concern for her ire. “You are here because fighting the manikin horde benefits you and your men.” He looked at her with steely eyes, and she scrutinised him right back. Squall continued quietly, like they were sharing a secret, “Your government wants to cut your funding, cut your _power_. No Luna Cry will come before your retirement. This is your best chance – perhaps your only chance – to keep the cash flow coming your way.”

Morgan’s sneer was more prominent, now. “I have good men,” she told him.

The tense like of his shoulders seemed to relax at her words. “I don’t doubt it.”

Bartz looked at Cloud across the room, then looked at them. “Commander Morgan, would you mind if…?”

Morgan blinked at him as if just noticing he was there. “Yes, Cadet Klauser?”

Bartz squared his shoulders. “I’m going to ask my friend Cloud to dance; will that offend you?”

She gave him a long look. “Admittedly, Galbadia is a conservative country,” she said. “But I know many of my men partake in… and I turn a blind eye. You may dance with your friend and I assure you, you will hear no protest from Galbadia.”

Bartz bowed to her. “Thank you,” he said, and Squall nodded a little in approval too, as Bartz walked away from them and towards Cloud, passing through the elegant dancers on the ballroom floor, his eyes never leaving the handsome blonde on the other side of the room.

Bartz’s heels clacked on the floor as he stopped in front of him. Cloud took a sip from his champaign flute, finally making eye contact with Bartz before standing straight from his lean against the wall.

Bartz put out his hand and gave him a lopsided grin. “Shall we dance?”

Cloud found a tray to put his empty flute on as a server came past them. “Fine,” he said, walking to the floor, “but you need to lead.”

There was a nervousness about Cloud, like he knew how to dance but didn’t entirely know the steps, but Bartz was happy to lead - preferred it, in fact. He slotted his hand at the small of Cloud’s back and pulled him close, internally pleased at their slight height difference. He brought their free hands together and lead him around the room, following the moves of the other dancers. Nearby Rinoa and Squall were dancing like professionals, while Irvine and Selphie came a close second best. Laguna was dancing with Tifa, and they both seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.

Bartz pushed Cloud gently away then pulled him back in again. “Seems everyone’s enjoying themselves.”

“The calm before the storm,” Cloud murmured, after a graceful spin.

Bartz held him close again, hips flush. Cloud’s lips parted. Bartz said, voice low, “Ever the pessimist.”

“I’m a realist,” Cloud retorted with a minute upturn of one corner of his mouth, and for a fleeting moment Bartz thought about kissing that smirk right off his pretty face. But then Cloud pulled away again, their hands linked and crossed at the wrists.

Laguna and Tifa bumped into them deliberately. “I’m trying to convince Laguna to ask Commander Morgan to dance,” Tifa told them.

“I think she might bite my head off,” Laguna told Bartz and Cloud conspiratorially. He looked pained. “Just the very thought of walking over there is giving me a leg cramp.”

“You’ll be fine!” Tifa encouraged. “I’ll come with you, if you want.”

“We all will!” Bartz said with a grin. Cloud nodded too. “I quite like her; she’s not so scary once you get over that first conversation.”

“I’ve spoken to her many times,” Laguna said, looking a little green. He pulled away from Tifa. “Okay, I’m going to do this. Alone.” He walked over to Commander Morgan, pausing halfway across the room to rub his leg as if he really _did_ have a leg cramp, then continued on and spoke to her directly. Her expression was hard at first, then seemed to change to confusion briefly before softening into a kind of aloof affection.

“He barely remembers us,” Tifa told Cloud and Bartz quietly, her eyes still on Laguna across the room. “And he said he only started remembering recently, and only in kind of… dreams.”

Bartz relaxed into an easy pose. “Makes sense. He wasn’t with us in the last cycle, when _our_ memories of the mirror world returned.”

When Tifa glanced at him sharply. She said, “Did you notice he’s older?”

Bartz shrugged. Cloud nodded. “Much older,” Cloud elaborated.

She looked him in the eyes. “He was taken to the Twelfth Cycle when he was young. It was many, many years ago… which means he was taken before our timeline.”

Bartz and Cloud blinked at her in incomprehension.

She studied them. She opened her mouth as if to explain, then shut it again as if giving up on the subject. Then she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear in a tell-tale sign of nerves, before saying, “There’s something else. I’m not sure, but… I _think_ he’s Squall’s father.”

Bartz’s exclamation of shock was wordless. Cloud stared at her with wide eyes. “But they don’t act like father and son at all,” said Bartz in a stage-whisper.

“I think Laguna holds a lot of affection for Squall,” Tifa told them. “But other than that… I don’t think they acknowledge it _at all._ ”

“It’s none of our business,” Cloud decided. Bartz looked at him.

“You’re right,” Tifa said lightly. Changing the subject, she gestured between them. “Either one of you want to dance with me?”

Relieved, Bartz grinned at her and held out his hand. “The night is young!”


	4. Darkness Swallows You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art is up! Yaaaassss! By the wonderful Ragna, on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185414AO3) or [Tumblr](https://pennywaltzy.tumblr.com/post/627837930472341504/art-for-heathen-by-dentedsky-this-is-the-cover%22). Please give these banners some love, they're just gorgeous.

The great expanse of land was interspersed with the occasional evidence of a city long gone: of debris and stone with ancient carvings. The grass was long and wild and the trees were tall and overlapping, as if nature had grown there to overcompensate what was lost. Squall had mentioned a lost civilisation there, once, before something called the Lunar Cry occurred, when monsters came from the moon and overtook the land, and the people who lived here had either died or migrated.

The breeze rustled Cloud’s hair as he stood next to the chocobo who would take him to his position. Nearby, Squall and Rinoa were talking lowly next to her chocobo. 

“I still don’t feel like this is a good idea – “ Bartz began.

“I’ll be fine,” Cloud told him with some exasperation, as if he had not only heard Bartz say it over and over, but had the same argument internally within himself, too. “ _You’ll_ be fine. It will be fine.”

Earlier that morning, the war counsel had spoken at length of the plan over a map spread over the counsel table. Squall had said, “Cloud will go alone to the valley while Balamb and Galbadia set up their artillery – “

“Over my dead body,” Bartz had interjected.

Squall had pulled up and glared at him. “Explain yourself.”

“He’s not going alone. He’s not going without _me_.”

“Bartz, I told you, I need you with Commander Morgan – “

Rinoa had piped up, “I’ll go with him,” which prompted Squall to glare at her next, his head already shaking with his negation. But she spoke over his incoming _No_ with, “I’m the strongest person in this room. In the _world_.” Her eyebrows had shot up as she looked at each and every member of the counsel with unblinking, challenging eyes. “Nothing can touch me. Cloud will be safe with me.”

Now, on the field, Bartz said to Cloud lowly, “I’m supposed to be your knight. How am I supposed to protect you if you’re off being bait and I’m on the other side, on the front line?”

Cloud watched him a moment, though his expression was inscrutable. The dark-crimson scales had grown over his neck and were almost to his jaw line. Then he looked away from Bartz’s eyes with a twist of his mouth – an almost barely there smile – before reaching both hands up and to his own ear to untwist the studded earring there.

Cloud gazed at the little diamond earring in his palm a moment. He explained, “Back in the military, we had these things called dog tags. I’m not sure if your world had them. But they basically served as identification should the infantryman get killed so violently that he was unrecognisable.” He looked up into Bartz’s eyes, and they were so, so blue. He held out his palm for Bartz to take the earring. “I lost mine some time ago. But this earring has been with me for almost as long as those dog tags. So let’s swap them.”

Bartz stared at Cloud’s face rather than his palm. He really wanted to know and understand what Cloud was thinking. “Why?” Bartz asked him.

“Because you think something bad is going to happen to me. And I want to prove to you that I will be okay, that I will survive. We don’t need dog tags to identify us – not today, not tomorrow, and not any day the manikins come for me.”

Bartz nodded, some understanding making a home in his mind. He went to his right ear and pulled off his own beaded earring and placed it in Cloud’s palm, then took Cloud’s, and hesitantly put it in his ear. He thought he looked a bit silly with one long earring and one studded one, but he remembered that in Cloud’s world it was the fashion to either wear one earring, or a mismatched ‘pair’. Cloud put Bartz’s earring in his left ear. It didn’t really suit him, but Bartz liked the look anyway, knowing that Cloud had something of his, like a hug sealed in a jewel.

“Time to go!” Rinoa said to Cloud, smoothly pulling herself onto her chocobo.

Cloud nodded to her amicably enough, and she did the same. Then the two of them were off, trotting then cantering away past the army camps and through the dust. They would make camp at the mouth of the valley and hope the manikin portals would open there.

Squall stood beside Bartz and watched them go.

Bartz understood why Squall did it: he needed Bartz to effectively spy on Morgan and her officers in case they were going to turn against Squall or any of the other heads of nations. Morgan liked Bartz, strangely, and viewed Bartz as a non-threatening person from another world who did not have ties to the politics of hers. From her perspective, Bartz had no real allegiance.

On the contrary, Bartz had allegiance. His allegiance was with Cloud, and Cloud alone.

He was friends with queens and princesses of his own world, of course, but to him worlds did not have political lines that mattered. What was power when freedom was all he had ever craved?

Balamb Garden had set up their encampment along the south-east coast, while Galbadia and their intimidating armada were on the south and south-west. Trabia Garden were on the east coast, and all nations had submarines and ships on the north coast just below the cliff where Cloud and Rinoa would perhaps have to make their final stand, if pressure from the manikins got too great. Bartz was hoping it would not get that far, and the navy would only stay idle. 

Esthar was an interesting affair, choosing to stay on the water surrounding the continent, with young soldiers inside of both genders all in line and ready to hook themselves up to computers. They would control the drones and the fire power remotely from the comfort of their positions. The technology that Esthar possessed was far beyond Bartz’s understanding, so he dare not request clarification from Laguna on how he was going to fight lest his obvious confusion made him look a fool.

“So many times…” Squall was mumbling to himself. “This time, we’re going to win this.”

*

“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” Rinoa had asked the night before. Then she let out a self-depreciating titter. “Except… space is kind of… awful. Depressing. _Lonely._ ”

Cloud, about to crawl into his own tent, told her to go to sleep.

Thankfully they had gotten an early night, because the manikins came in the morning.

It started with four portals. Manikins poured out. Over in the southern part of the land, the soldiers of all armies roused themselves into action. Cloud knew Tifa would be with Laguna, and Bartz would be with Morgan.

Cloud watched the bodies pour from the portals for a moment before rousing himself. Rinoa swore. “I didn’t get a chance to eat my breakfast,” she muttered. She grabbed his arm, and they abandoned their camp and headed north to the narrow valley. 

When they got there the grass ended and the rocks and trickling stream began, and they walked precariously through. Behind them the Esthan drones machine-gunned through the first lines of the manikin horde. The sounds of manikins exploding into crystal by the drone guns were deep and loud.

Finally Cloud stopped and turned toward the manikins who had slipped past the drones and were coming into the valley, Warrior of Light at the fore with his magic shield. Cloud unsheathed his sword and raised it, thinking, _This is it,_ before running toward the horde made less dangerous by having to bottle-neck their mass through the valley. Cloud let himself channel his anger – for his predicament, for his insecurity, for the erosion of his freedom – and fought the manikin Warrior of Light, chopping off his head.

Manikin Vaan was next, followed by Golbez, and Kuja, and Sephiroth, and then after that he lost count of the manikins he chopped, stabbed, cut, bashed. And though manikins fought hard with strength and magic and tricks, still they crumpled like playing cards under his blade.

When she could get a hit in, Rinoa sniped the manikins with her crossbow and her magic.

They fought for what felt like hours, the midday sun making itself known with its slow increase in heat and glare. At one point Cloud created a portal for he and Rinoa to escape, its exit above them. They fell into it, then out of it, then into it again, until they came out with Rinoa’s sorceress wings spread like a foreboding angel, propelling them away from the horde but closer to the cliff’s edge. Exhaustion clouded Cloud’s vision at the edges, but he fought on. His mind wandered…

For the last few days Cloud had been helping Squall write the speech he would use to motivate his SeeDs. They had sat together in the empty room, heads bowed, crease between Squall’s brows as he finished the speech with a heavy dot of his pen. Cloud read it quietly, imagining Squall straight-backed on his chocobo as he rode up and down the lines of his men and women, shouting the words, the anticipation of the fight a collective thrum through their veins. And the speech went like this:

“Many of you might believe that I am doing this for a friend in need. And... you would be correct. I am doing it for the man I consider a friend and ally, but I am also doing this for you – pushing you though this war, this ordeal, for your benefit. For you _will_ benefit. You will fight, and you will _win_.

“Know now that this manikin horde is endless, yet finite. Know now that you will suffer, yet prevail. Know now that this war that you stand on the cusp of is real, yet is only practice. Know that today is war, yet an exam, and I will be grading you. When the next Lunar Cry comes – and it will come, make no mistake – you will be ready, because you would have fought today, here, where our ancestors fought, and failed, yet won.

“We do not know how large the manikin army is. But what we do know is that they are easily incapacitated, that they can perish with just one strike that hits hard and true. So you must stay aware of your surroundings, and do not let them get a hit in. You are the intelligent ones, the trained ones, the strong ones!” 

Back in the present, Rinoa screamed Cloud’s name.

A manikin of himself struck Cloud into the rock wall that lined the valley, then called upon a meteor shower so devastating Cloud was hit with its full force, rock and stardust and his own body crumbling to the ground.

A memory of Bartz dancing at the ball came to Cloud’s mind as he was crushed under the rubble. _Bartz,_ Cloud called, in his mind, _I’m sorry._

*

“What are you doing here?” Morgan demanded of Laguna as she hacked at Ramza then stabbed Kain. Bartz saw Laguna shoot down a troublesome Ace before shooting Morgan a grin.

“I was a soldier before I was a politician, you know!” Laguna answered her with far too much glee. He machine gunned down a whole line of manikins then crowed, “I missed this: war! Chaos! _Violence!_ ”

Morgan’s eyed him appreciatively before the fight distracted her, and she was in the fray again, fighting with an Onion Knight then a Bartz manikin.

Bartz huffed with some amusement, unable to articulate much in such a hectic situation. He fought a Jecht and a Zidane, adrenaline pumping. Then, on the breeze, he heard Cloud’s voice:

_I’m sorry._

Bartz froze. _No,_ he thought. _No, not again._

He looked into the crowd of pernicious manikins and zeroed in on a dark haired one. Pushing manikins out of his way, Bartz stalked towards Noctis, switching to Mime job class as he went, boots kicking up the dust of such a hot, barren land, and thought, _Stay alive my dragon, stay alive for me._

_Please._

When he arrived at Noctis, Bartz grinned at him with a wide, menacing flash of his teeth. “You’ve got that weird power going for you, right? The flashy one with the different weapons? What’s is called, ‘Warp-Assault’?”

The manikin looked unimpressed. “Warp-Strike,” it answered.

“That’s the one,” said Bartz, then shot out his hand and strangled Noctis with it, absorbing his power as his life force drained. It only took a moment, and then the manikin was shattering into a thousand pieces.

Bartz pulled the chicken knife from the sheath at his hip and examined it, before taking a deep breath and throwing it high into the air, then warp-striking to it.

He caught the knife and threw it, warp-striking again into the air.

Caught the knife, threw it, warp-striking high.

Catch, throw, strike.

Repeat.

Bartz did not have wings but he could fly, and he had to get to Cloud’s position as soon as possible. It was all that mattered… Cloud was all that mattered in all the worlds.

*

 _I’m coming for you,_ Cloud heard Bartz say in his head.

Cloud opened his eyes. Pain ricocheted down his back and cross his shoulders to double back and pulsate in his shoulder blades. A burst of energy coalesced inside him and with a wave of his arm he shoved the rocks away from his body, rubble flying outwards and into the manikin horde. His shoulders _hurt_ , the pain making his focus sharp. He felt heavy. He felt strong. He felt ready to take on the world.

He created a portal to take him to Rinoa’s position, who was at the edge of the cliff, her wings flapping to keep her balanced as the horde went for her. He turned to the horde, summoned dark red magic in the palms of both hands and struck the manikins with it in long tunnels of energy.

“You should fly!” Rinoa shouted at him.

Cloud glanced over his shoulder and saw he had wings. They were large and dark and sinewy and _powerful_. He flapped them experimentally and lost balance.

Above him, Bartz called his name. At first Cloud thought that Bartz was a manikin, but with sun behind him, and falling to the ground from his warp-strike position, Cloud saw his ecstatic expression and knew that Bartz was real.

Cloud opened his arms wide and caught Bartz’s fall. Unfortunately, all three warriors were too close to the edge and they teetered over. As Rinoa hovered easily and Cloud tried his best to flap his wings and keep both he and Bartz steady in the air, the manikins reorganised themselves: several Bartz and Firion manikins lined up in two neat rows, pulled the arrows in their bows and let the arrows loose in a perfect fusillade. They hissed through the air and one struck Cloud in his right wing, shot clean through.

Held tightly in Cloud’s arms, Bartz shouted Cloud’s name in distress. Rinoa screamed, “Open a portal! Open a portal!”

One arm wrapped around Bartz, Cloud threw out a hand, aiming at the air below their feet. _I need to go to the furthest world in my power!_

Shinryu replied, _It is surrounded by impenetrable darkness._

 _I don’t care_ , Cloud told him. _Take us there, now!_

The portal that wrenched itself open was pitch black and cracked at the edges. It felt greasy and reluctant, but Cloud, Bartz and Rinoa fell into it, then into the atmosphere of another world as the portal closed behind them. Tuffs of cloud hung around them peacefully. Below them, the world they would land onto was true absence of colour. Rinoa undulated her wings with ease, but Cloud still struggled to stay in a smooth glide. Adrenaline leaving his system, Cloud could admire the beauty of it, and of the cool, crisp air against his hot skin. They were like winged blots on a clouded canvas.

They landed finally: on what was not ground but a kind of buoyant physical manifestation of darkness. Bartz pulled away from Cloud’s embrace, then looked around and down with curiosity. “This is not… a world.”

“No,” Cloud agreed. Rinoa seemed worried. _Where are we?_ Cloud asked Shinryu.

 _The last world,_ he said, _the final world. We cannot enter._

_Why?_

_I told you why,_ Shinryu told him impatiently: _the darkness is impenetrable._

Cloud took a deep breath and looked at his two friends. “Shinryu says the world is surrounded by a kind of darkness.”

Bartz’s eyes widened in alarm. “Shinryu is talking to you? Now?”

“Yes,” Cloud said, confusion as to why Bartz would focus on that at a time like this colouring his tone. “Let’s keep moving forward, and maybe we’ll find a weakness in the darkness or a doorway – “ He turned and strode off. Behind him, Rinoa and Bartz exchanged glances before following.

Once again Cloud’s energy was starting to flag, but he kept walking along the barren darkness, determined to get to a place the manikins could not follow. He hoped Squall and Tifa were alright, and hoped that he could put to rights the mess he had made. He had long lost his sword in the fight, seemingly when he’d been thrown into rock, and he was feeling bereft of a weapon. He felt both powerful and weak, knowledgeable and lost.

It took a good part of an hour before Cloud found a weakness in the darkness. Though following behind, Bartz and Rinoa had left him to his concentrated wanderings, choosing instead to talk to each other, though not letting Cloud out of their sight. At some point, Rinoa had made her wings disappear, and she was back to her normal form.

The gap in the darkness Cloud finally found looked like the ripples made from a stone dropped in water but in slow motion, the spot just big enough for them to drop through one by one. Cloud flexed his wings and glanced at his two friends. “Time to go.”

Not the kind of people to lack confidence even when faced with such unknown circumstances, Bartz and Rinoa squared their shoulders and nodded at him.

Cloud jumped into the portal of darkness.

He felt the weightlessness of falling for just a moment before splashing into salty, ice-cold water. Bartz and Rinoa followed shortly after, their gasps at the shock of the sudden change of temperature especially audible in the absolute quiet. “Fuck me!” Rinoa grated out as she treaded water. “I’m freezing my tits off!”

“I can’t see!” said Bartz with a hint of panic. “Is that normal?”

“It’s pitch black,” Cloud agreed, breath coming in fast little gasps as managed to keep his head above water, “and my guess is we’re in the ocean.”

“If there’s ocean, there’s land!” Bartz said optimistically. “That’s what I always say.”

“Make a portal already,” Rinoa groused.

“On it,” said Cloud. He needed a place to send the portal, though, and without light he couldn’t see where to put the outgoing gate – he didn’t want to accidentally portal them into a mountain or something equally disastrous.

In the distance there was a kind of fleeting reflection, like something moving next to glass. “I think I see land,” Cloud told them, already moving his hands to make a portal. Because of the awkward position, wherever they landed would get a large dose of water, but getting whatever was on the other side wet was a risk he would have to take.

Cloud let Rinoa and Bartz swim through the portal first, and once Cloud was on the other side, he quickly closed it to stop the wave of water.

Mako-enhanced eyes adjusting to the darkness, Cloud could see they were on a pier that was connected to a large, glass building. 

Bartz conjured a ball of light in his hand. “Once we find some dry wood, we can make some torches to see by,” said Bartz. He held the ball up to look at the building. “What is this place?”

Rinoa gave Bartz a little push between his shoulderblades. “Let’s find out!”

The interior seemed modern, full of tables and chairs, and a bench where people could place their orders. “A restaurant?” murmured Cloud.

“A hotel, I think,” said Rinoa, stepping through the room. Gravel and glass crunched under their feet. “Why are there people’s clothes on the floor?” she wondered aloud. “It’s like they just stripped naked and then walked off…”

Not paying attention to her, Bartz gently nudged Cloud’s side. “Hey,” he said quietly, “Are you worried? About Tifa?”

“Tifa can take care of herself,” Cloud told Bartz honestly. “But yeah, I’m a little worried I won’t be able to figure out how to go back.”

“You better figure it out!” Rinoa called from the other side of the room. “As fun as it is adventuring with you two in this dark, creepy place, I want to go home eventually!”

Bartz skipped further into the room and examined the stairs. “If this is a hotel there should be rooms upstairs, right? Reckon any are usable?”

Cloud looked at Bartz, saw something behind him slither in the darkness, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Bartz – !“

Bartz’s ball of light clattered to the floor as something grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down, then dragged him into the darkness. Bartz yelped. The serpentine monster slid from around the stairs and held her prize in the air as she hissed at Cloud, her human-like face distorted: “ _Where’s my baby?_ ”

“No one knows where your baby is, bitch!” Rinoa shouted before shooting with her crossbow and hitting its flank with a series of bolts. The monster screamed, dropped Bartz and went after Rinoa, who ran. Knowing Bartz would be alright to pick himself up, Cloud ran after it, shot out his hand and sniped it with a red beam of energy. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t die. Cloud heard fighting behind him and turned to see another had slid down the stairs and was attacking Bartz, who swiped its face with a flaming sword. Rinoa ran over to Cloud and they stationed themselves between the two monsters, back-to-winged back. “Forget manikins; these things are fucking strong!” Rinoa exclaimed.

“Help Bartz,” Cloud commanded her, “and I’ll go for the one at the front.”

Rinoa shrugged her acquiescence and bounded to the rear, and Cloud faced the giant monster, feeling a little helpless without a sword.

He started to charge up more energy, when another figure – a bearded man - came in through a broken wall and held up his hand. Blinding, hydrous light grew from his hand and flowed outward, until with a rumbling sound it encompassed the whole room. The two monsters shrieked as they were pulled into the light and compressed, until they were nothing at all. Then light was gone with a sound like a vacuum cleaner powering down, and all that remained were Cloud, Bartz, Rinoa and the stranger.

The stranger lowered his hand, and Cloud peered at his face. “Noctis?”

Noctis smiled and relaxed his stance, crossing his arms. “Hey, Cloud.”

Cloud stepped closer. “You look… different.”

Noctis raised his eyebrows. He was wearing a torch on the lapel of his jacket that lit up his face and gave the room some light. “Speak for yourself. You looked in the mirror lately?”

That gave Cloud pause. He turned to a nearby glass wall to check himself, and when he did, the bottom of his stomach dropped out.

He was certainly different. The scales had reached his jawline. His wings were large and sinewy but smooth, like young leather. But that was not what made him stare: his eyes were glowing, but they were glowing _red._

While Cloud stared at a reflection he barely recognised, Bartz went over and shook Noctis’s hand in greeting, and Noctis and Rinoa also shook hands, meeting for the first time. “We shouldn’t linger here,” Noctis was saying; “the demons rule this world, now. But my camp isn’t far from here, and it’s still protected by the last Oracle’s magic, so we’ll be safe there.”

Bartz gestured. “Lead the way!”

Noctis did. Cloud followed behind the party.

“That big destruction ball of light thingy?” Rinoa said to Noctis as they exited the hotel and walked across the boardwalk, “Big dick energy.”

“That’s not a thing,” Bartz scoffed, “if it was, you’d be able to see my aura from space.”

Cloud let out an exasperated little laugh, and Bartz turned to him, grinning. He went to Cloud’s side and tapped his shoulder. “ _That_ got you smiling,” said Bartz quietly, as if sharing a secret.

Cloud was grateful; he tried to show it in his expression as he looked at his friend.

The party were walking along where the sand met the weeds. Bartz hopped along to Noctis and asked him, “So, quick question: where’s the moon?”

“I have a better question,” Rinoa cut in from Noctis’s other side: “where are all the people?”

Her tactless enquiry seemed to make Noctis falter in his step. He picked up his pace again, determined. 

Cloud, behind them, answered for Noctis. “There was a plague.” He looked at Noctis, though Noctis kept his back to Cloud. “Right?”

“Right,” Noctis said with resignation. “My people either perished, or they have become demons.”

“Oh gosh,” Bartz breathed. “Like the ones we just fought?”

“Like the ones we just fought,” Noctis confirmed.

“’Your people’?” Rinoa hazarded, voice more subdued, now.

“I’m the king,” Noctis told her kindly, forgiveness in his voice. “The plague blotted out the moon,” he added to Bartz.

Noctis stopped, and they all looked up at the entrance to a tunnel. He shined his torch up at a demon so large and fierce it took up the whole space under the arch. It growled at them in warning, but they were too far from it for it to attack in earnest.

“A Demons Gate,” said Cloud lowly.

“You’ve seen them,” Noctis asked him.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t get through,” Noctis told them. “I tried yesterday, but…”

“Can’t you – “ Rinoa wriggled her fingers – “big dick energy it away?”

“The Ring of Lucii,” Noctis corrected. “And I tried, but it’s too big. In fact, any demons we come across tonight I might not be able to use the ring for; I’ll need you guys to help me.”

Bartz put his fists on his hips. “Leave it to us!”

“The camp isn’t much further,” Noctis offered. “Let’s all rest and we can try later.”

They’d been left alone for their journey to camp…

…Which, in retrospect, was their first warning.

Some skeletons and goblins threw themselves out of the darkness and charged the group from the hills, while another serpent-like woman slid from the sea and attacked their other side. Flans joined the ambush, and all the enemies were strong.

“Head for the camp!” Noctis shouted at the group. “No point fighting them when we’re so close.”

Bartz had to drag Rinoa away, who looked like she rather stay and put bolts through every creature in sight. Noctis and Cloud ran after them. Bartz then Rinoa reached the protected camp, followed shortly by Noctis, and then Cloud –

Cloud seemed to bounce off an invisible wall.

He couldn’t get onto the camp site.

“Cloud, what are you doing?” Bartz shouted at him in panic. “Get on here!”

“I can’t. Something is blocking me.”

“The Oracle’s magic,” Noctis said breathlessly, “it’s stopping you from entering the sacred space.”

“Can you do something?” Bartz demanded of Noctis.

Cloud slowly turned. All the demons were facing him, ready to kill. “Guess I’ll have to do some obliterating,” Cloud muttered as he summoned dark red energy into his hands.

The demons attacked him all at once –

In a sudden defensive move Cloud did not know he even possessed, he curled his wings around himself like a shield. They solidified in crystal as strong as diamond, and so the attacks from the demons were blocked. The crystal rapidly spread over his whole body, shielding him, encasing him… and as such, forcing him into a crystalised sleep state.

*

Rinoa and Noctis grabbed each of Bartz’s arms, forcing him to stay back in the sacred camp. Bartz fell to his knees as he watched Cloud slowly being encased in a kind of transparent rock-crystal, as if he were magically building an egg shell around himself. He hoped it was Cloud’s doing, and not some kind of demon petrification spell; though it was most likely one of Shinryu’s many protective talents manifesting to protect his host.

Bartz was aware he had been shouting Cloud’s name.

The demons attacked Cloud a few more times, but realising that Cloud was no longer a viable target, they gave up and wandered away, some aimlessly, and some off into the darkness to fight each other.

Bartz was breathing heavily. He shrugged off his friends and walked to the edge of the camp where Cloud was, and touched the crystalis. Cloud had his back to him, but through the crystal egg Bartz could see his wings curled around their master.

“Cloud…” Bartz called. “Cloud. You can’t just… fall asleep in the middle of a battle, friend. You have to let me save you, sometimes.” He moved his palm over the smooth, cold surface. “I’m your knight, remember? My job is to protect you. So. Wake up, okay?”

Noctis and Rinoa watched warily as Bartz jumped off the raised campsite and walked around Cloud so he could look up at his face. He couldn’t see much past the crystal and the darkness and Cloud’s wings, but he could see that Cloud’s eyes were closed, and he was very, very still.

“Don’t be dead,” Bartz demanded. He knew his bottom lip was sticking out, but he didn’t care. “You need to be okay, because I… Because I…”

He pressed his hand to his heart.

“Because I love you.” Bartz inhaled deeply. It was true. Every little smile, every little snarky comment, the lilt of Cloud’s voice, the blue of his eyes, the way his small waist tapered into his hips, the way he smelled –

“Bartz,” Rinoa called gently, “come back into the magic circle-thing. I think I see a Tonberry lurking around the corner, sharpening his knife.”

“It’s safer for you, here,” Noctis agreed. “Cloud will be fine; he always is.”

Bartz complied, stepping up past the Oracle’s runes and into the campsite.

Noctis was starting to make a fire. Rinoa punched Bartz in the arm, but it was mild. “Do you often have epiphanies in the middle of danger?” she said.

Bartz snorted, feeling his mood lift. “When am I ever _not_ in the middle of danger?”

Rinoa cackled. “True!”

There was a large metal trunk on the other side of the site. Noctis opened it and pulled out some rolled out tents. “They’re small, but we get one each, at least,” Noctis told them over his shoulder. He’d gotten the fire roaring quickly enough with a spell. “I also have canned beans, so that will be a nice treat for dinner,” he added satirically.

“Congratulations on falling in love, though,” said Rinoa with a grin. “All-in-all it’s quite a nice feeling, isn’t it?”

It probably feels better when it’s returned, Bartz thought but didn’t say. But he examined his feelings: although he was scared for Cloud, and didn’t know what to say to him when he did eventually wake up… Bartz felt that he could keep on loving Cloud, even if Cloud never found out about Bartz’s feelings. If he could keep Cloud’s attention and his friendship, that was all Bartz needed, so long as Cloud was happy.

Bartz shrugged in answer to Rinoa’s question, and gestured lazily as he made his way over to the fire to sit at it cross-legged. “Love is just another adventure.”

“Sure is, kiddo,” Rinoa replied amicably as she followed suit. “Man! I am _starving._ I am this close to eating my own hair.”

Noctis poured the contents of the cans into a pot and put it on the fire to cook. “Then what I’m going to serve you will taste gourmet,” he quipped.

“Yum yum! Then I’m going straight to bed for my beauty sleep, and hopefully Cloud will be awake by morning.”

“About that…” Noctis glanced at Bartz and Rinoa. “There won’t be a morning.”

“What?” said Bartz.

“There’s no moon,” Noctis explained. “And… there’s no sun. Not anymore.”

“You’re kidding me,” Rinoa exclaimed. “So you just go to bed and then wake up again in total darkness?”

Noctis stirred their food and said nothing.

It was answer enough.

*

Although his tent had been set up, Bartz decided not to use it, even after Rinoa and Noctis had long retired for the night. He instead laid himself down as close as he could to Cloud without leaving the safety of the campsite, staring up at the crystalis in the dark.

He nodded off eventually, but being in such an uncomfortable, cold position, it was only a light sleep. He was woken by Noctis unzipping his tent and stepping out.

Bartz sat up and blinked blearily at him. He looked Noctis up and down. “You’re leaving,” Bartz observed.

“I was hoping you were asleep,” Noctis confirmed.

Bartz stood up and blocked his retreat from the campsite. “You can’t go yet; we’re supposed to go with you to beat the demon wall, remember?”

“Bartz, I have to go,” Noctis sighed, as if he was too worn to argue. “I don’t think I can beat the demon wall, but maybe I can go over it.”

“But – “

Noctis touched his arm. “You’re not going to leave Cloud here, and neither should you. Look around you; my world is in ruins, my people are gone… I need to find survivors, if there are any. I need to save them.” Behind his brave expression was sadness and a plea. “I’m the king of Lucis; I do not want to be the king of nothing.”

“Cloud might wake up soon,” said Bartz feebly, “then we can help you, together.”

Noctis touched his other arm. “You are a good, loyal knight, Bartz. Cloud is lucky to have your love.”

He stepped away and made to leave the camp.

A deep, whirling sound was heard. It broke through the silence.

Bartz frowned, eyes widening. “That sounds like – “

“Like portals opening,” said Noctis grimly.

Bartz pivoted where he stood, strode over to Rinoa’s tent and shook it. “Rinoa, wake up, we’ve got trouble!”

*

Cloud awoke in a world of bright white, like a three dimensional canvas.

He looked around at the _nothing_ , then walked forward. Eventually he came across a small, dark dragon, curled around its tail like a cat napping.

When Cloud stopped in front of it, it lifted its little head at blinked at him with amber eyes.

“Greetings, Mother,” it said with an old voice.

Cloud blinked. “’Mother’?”

The infant dragon seemed to lower its head in thought. “Forgive me, for your language has evolved and your species is multi-gendered. Is ‘father’ a more appropriate term for you, despite being the host?”

Cloud stared down at it. It looked worn and tired. “Father is fine.”

“Mmm, good.”

“Are you dying?”

It looked him in the eye again. “On the contrary, you are witnessing gestation.”

Cloud let out a long breath. “You’re Shinryu, aren’t you?”

“Since you are the mother-father, you may name me by my previous name, or you may name me something new. Most hosts I have acquired over my many lifetimes have renamed me.”

“Shinryu is fine,” Cloud decided. He sat down next to the dragon and crossed his legs, then glanced around at the white again. “Where are we? Am I dreaming?”

“Mmm, yes, you are dreaming. This conversation is taking place in your dream-space.”

“So… you’re…” Cloud touched his belly, as if he expected a bulge to be there. It was as flat as it always was. “You’re inside me?”

“Mmm, yes. I predict I will remain inside you for some time. Containing an amalgamation of yours and the one you know as Jenova’s deoxyribonucleic acid makes a worthy host; however, due to mine and Jenova’s genetic bases being too similar, I cannot take your deoxyribonucleic acid to make myself anew. To explain, my species is non-binary, and as such when we die, we infantise ourselves and take new genetic material from another species to strengthen the line. I have always preferred a single host; some generations ago, Jenova forced internal change in order to place herself into several hosts at once. Although she and I seem dissimilar, I cannot use you to complete the gestation.”

Cloud sat silently for a while, mulling over all that had been said. He mused, eventually, “Bartz said you two were cousins. He was right.”

“Yes, as he often will be. He is a Warrior for the Dawn: a race of humans created by his planet to be of the highest class a human can be. Mmm, royalty. As such, his deoxyribonucleic acid contains the knowledge of the Ancients. The knowledge may be hard for him to discern, but it is there.”

“He was right about the planets, then? About them being gods?”

“Mmm, yes.”

“He theorised that all the warriors summoned to the mirror world are Warriors for the Dawn,” said Cloud. “Is that also true?”

“Mmm, not quite. The Warriors for the Dawn are unique to his planet, for his planet made the decision to give some of its spirit power over to their royalty; hence, he absorbed the knowledge from all the previous Dawn Warriors to combat the Void. You, on the other hand, are only guided by fate as dictated by your planet's will – a chosen one, if you prefer – but in actuality, your fate could have been easily given to any other with a strength that matched yours. However, you and your peers whom were taken to World B are chosen by the crystals, and that is where your similarities lay.”

“Bartz... is a prince?” mused Cloud. “Does he know?”

Shinryu gave him a contemplative look. “He knows he is a Warrior for the Dawn; there is no knowledge more important than this.”

Cloud sat for a moment. He thought he heard another voice calling his name, so quiet as if yelling from a great distance.

“The Warrior for the Dawn is calling you,” Shinryu informed him. “The manikins have come for me again.”

“How do we stop them?”

“Mmm.” It looked troubled.

“You don’t know?”

“I do not know. There is another world… a world in which the manikins cannot enter.”

Cloud stood. “Then we should go there. Now.”

“Only the most faithful may enter.” It looked up at him. “Neither you nor I have the prerequisites. But I can get us to the space between worlds, where the gate lies.”

Cloud nodded. “Do it.”

“First you must destroy the manikins which have come into the world of the One True King. Look forward and see with your mind’s eye the enemy in front of you, and summon your magic to destroy their life forces.”

Cloud did as he was instructed, facing forward into the bright white abyss, until a faded image of Noctis’s world projected an arm’s length away. He summoned red magic into his hands, and once enough coalesced in his palms and between his fingers, he pushed it out to destroy.

*

“Can manikins get inside the camp?” Bartz asked Noctis urgently. The manikins had poured themselves from the portals into the night, and Bartz, Noctis and Rinoa stood their ground, weapons and ring at the ready.

“How should I know,” Noctis answered.

Then the crystal around Cloud broke.

Cloud burst out with his wings, crystal shards expelled from the force. Beams of red power shot from his hands and out like a fan, instantly destroying and shattering manikins in the power’s path.

The manikins still poured in; however, it bought Cloud enough time to swing his arm out to the right and summon a portal of his own. 

He looked at his three friends over his shoulder, his eyes glowing red in the darkness.

“Let’s go,” he said, low.

“I can’t – “ Noctis began.

Rinoa and Bartz instantly grabbed an arm each and yanked Noctis to Cloud’s portal. “Don’t think about it!” Bartz told him at the same time Rinoa shouted, “Don’t be an idiot!”

They threw Noctis into the portal first, Rinoa running in behind. Bartz hesitated, looking at Cloud, but Cloud nodded at him with a silent promise that he would follow, and so Bartz went into the portal.

He had the sensation of being thrown up, this time, and landing once again on thick, liquid darkness. Cloud followed him, and then closed the portal behind himself.

Ahead of them, a few metres away, a large arched doorway stood. It had thick chains around it that came together with one large, ornate lock.

Cloud stepped towards it and stared at it. Bartz watched him.

Behind them, Noctis and Rinoa started to argue. “I didn’t want to come,” Noctis told her angrily. “My home – did you not see it? I have to save it.”

“Look at your friend,” said Rinoa, pointing to Cloud. “Look at him! He needs your help.”

“My _world_ needs my help!”

Rinoa stamped her foot. “What is the point of being king if you can’t even save your friends?”

Bartz ignored them, not wanting to get caught up in Noctis’s turmoil when he had an internal one of his own. He strode around Cloud to his front, looked into those red eyes, then lunged forward and hugged him.

Cloud was stiff and did not respond at first. Bartz knew it wasn't because Cloud didn’t want to hug Bartz back, but because Cloud’s mind was elsewhere… internal, external, Bartz wasn’t sure. But Bartz wanted to keep Cloud in the present, where the people who cared about him were.

Cloud slowly moved his arms and hugged Bartz back. Cloud was smaller than Bartz, but only by a little, and he fit nicely in Bartz’s embrace. Then Bartz pulled back a little, put his hand on Cloud’s neck, thumb against his jaw and fingers curled around his nape, and looked Cloud in the eye.

“The adventure just keeps on going, huh,” Bartz said with a little smirk. Something in Cloud’s blank expression changed subtly. Bartz frowned in seriousness. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” Cloud promised. 

Bartz kept his grip a second longer than was necessary, before pulling away. He gestured to the locked door. “What’s that?”

“A door to another world that the manikins cannot enter,” Cloud told him, voice deep and matter-of-fact. “Problem is, neither can we.” He turned to Noctis and Rinoa, who had stopped arguing to glare at each other. “Noctis. I will send you home if that’s what you want.”

Noctis looked at him in surprise. “That’s what I want.” Guilt stole over his features for a moment. “…Let me try to open that door for you first.”

Cloud nodded his thanks, and he and Bartz moved aside for Noctis to come to the door and put his ringed hand on the lock.

He concentrated for a moment in silence, before bright light curled around the lock, and with a groaning and a snap, it disintegrated in his hand, falling from his fingers like sand.

Noctis stepped back. As soon as he did, the door opened to swirling darkness and a thousand voices screaming, moaning and crying.

The four friends reacted instantly: Cloud stepped back, Noctis and Bartz covered their ears, and Rinoa made a sound of distress. “What is that?” said Noctis.

Cloud examined the new exposed portal side-along, as if he didn’t want to look at it directly. “The dreams and nightmares of the faithful.” He turned to Noctis. “Thank you for opening it. We will pass through, so I will send you back to your world, now.”

Noctis looked at him in alarm. “I can’t let you… just…” He looked at Rinoa for help, but she only looked back at him in distress. Noctis said to Cloud, “I’ll come with you, make sure you’re okay. As soon as you have your manikin problem sorted, then you need to send me back to save my world.”

“Okay,” Cloud said, “thank you.’’ And then he walked through the portal.


	5. No Road is Long with Good Company

The city they ended up in was of vibrant colours and thorough, intricate design. Bartz was mesmerised by it all as he stepped out of the alleyway and onto the busy street.

Next to him, Rinoa looked around in amazement. She whispered, “This is…”

“Daylight,” Noctis finished in awe.

Rinoa looked at him with some pity. “Not quite what I was going to say. But sure.”

Cars sped past on the road. “It seems more advanced than your world, Rinoa,” Bartz observed.

“I think it probably is,” said Rinoa without offence.

A group of boisterous young men meandered past their group. “Nice costume!” one of them hollered at Cloud. Then as if on queue his whole crew sang, “Go Dragons! Go Dragons! Go, go, go Dragons!”

Bartz raised his eyebrow in amusement. “Guess you fit right in,” he said to Cloud.

Cloud watched them walk down the footpath with wide eyes. “Guess so…” He shook his head. “Whose world is this?”

A building parallel to them suddenly omitted a waterfall, and in that waterfall was a hologram of a handsome blonde man with the words underneath: “Zanarkand Abes versus Zanarkand Dragons, 6pm tonight, live on Stream.”

“Tidus,” Bartz answered unnecessarily.

“Who?” barked Rinoa.

“From the mirror world.” Bartz gestured down the street. “Shall we check out whatever event Tidus is in?”

“Good plan,” Noctis agreed, and the group of four started their walk down the footpath, following behind the group of men and towards the large, transparent dome that could be seen in the distance.

The city was an amalgamation of both ancient and new, and was filled with a kind of architecture Bartz had never seen before; though if he continued to explore other worlds with Cloud like this, it was likely he would see a lot of things he had never seen. It was a technologically advanced society, with their hover screens and their fancy colourful clothes and good hygiene. Although obviously built recently, the buildings were colourfully lined like rock sedition, like a homage to life, the environment and ancient times. The pathways and roads were wide and well maintained, like they had all the land in the world so they decided to use as much space as possible to build the city.

The group were certainly not the only ones to be walking to the dome, or large bubble-thing or whatever it was – whole groups of friends and families were excitedly making their way, dressed up in their favourite team’s colours and emblems.

The long walk took them to the gate. Noctis spoke to the ticket booth teller, but apparently the tickets had been sold out days ago. “Very popular match,” Noctis relayed apologetically.

“Tidus must be famous,” Bartz said ruefully. They stood together in a little circle as those with tickets filtered into the gate.

Cloud looked over Bartz’s shoulder. “Is that...?”

Bartz looked too. He grinned and waved his arm enthusiastically in greeting. “Heeyyyy! Firion? Is that you?”

Firion approached their group. He looked different to how Bartz had remembered him with this armour and all his weapons. Now, he wore the same kind of street fashion as the locals, with his silver hair short and coiffed up with strips of coloured material weaved through the strands. “Greetings, friends,” he said, looking at each of them wide-eyed. He held out his hand to Rinoa, who put her hand in his to kiss. “And you, my Lady.”

Rinoa honest to God _giggled_ and looked on the verge of curtsying. “Hey! My name’s Rinoa.”

“What brings your presence here?” Firion looked each of them in turn with great curiosity. “I believed fate would not have us cross paths once more.”

“I can make portals now,” Cloud explained, “and this world is apparently the best world to hide from the manikins.”

Firion looked alarmed. “The manikins pursue you? Is it in relation to your changed appearance?”

“Sort of – “

“They’re not chasing him because they don’t like the way he looks,” Bartz laughed, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Firion seemed to relax a little. “I meant no offence,” he told Cloud.

“None taken,” said Cloud.

“All of you, come now, for I have a place from which we may view the game.”

“Sweet,” said Noctis.

Firion lead them to a staff only gate entrance, from which they took an elevator up to a room with a high view of the dome. Turned out the transparent structure held water, and the sportsmen were _swimming_ during their game, kicking a hard ball so it would race through the water.

Noctis and Rinoa went right up to the glass and stuck their hands and faces to it, watching Tidus and his teammates pass to one another until Tidus kicked a goal.

“That’s insane,” said Noctis breathlessly; “how do they breathe for so long?”

“They must be super people,” said Rinoa, with just as much awe, “or they have gills or something."

“Are you and Tidus from the same world?” Cloud asked Firion.

“No, this is Tidus’s world,” Firion told him. “When Tidus left World B, I made the decision to follow him. I wished only to stay by his side a little longer, for to never see him again would break my heart.”

Bartz clutched his chest. “Aww!”

“His friendship is important to me,” Firion explained. “However, I have no means of going back to my world… unless…” He looked at Cloud with hope.

Cloud looked back with trepidation, like he was afraid his answer would make Firion upset. “I can’t… choose a world I have never been to. It’s hard to explain, but I don’t know what that world would _feel_ like if I had never felt it before.”

Firion was nodding in understanding.

“But you are welcome to come with us when we explore,” Cloud offered a little awkwardly, gesturing to Bartz and himself, “and perhaps we’ll find your world, just as we are looking for Bartz’s.”

Bartz blinked at him. “We’re looking for my world?”

Cloud looked back at him with some confusion. “I thought… yes? Do you not want to go back?”

Bartz raised his eyebrows. “Well yeah, eventually maybe. But I’m happy just travelling with you, or hanging out in your world. For as long as you’ll have me.” Bartz took a deep breath, feeling a sudden jolt of panic that he was being too obvious with his feelings. “You know, because I’m a wanderer at heart. Where the wind blows, that’s the way I go!”

The confusion didn’t really leave Cloud’s expression. Past him, Firion was giving Bartz a knowing smile.

Damn.

Firion rolled the conversation back on track by saying to Cloud, “Thank you for your offer, I shall take it. Do not feel, however, that you needs make haste to leave Tidus’s world.” Cloud turned to Firion and gave him his full attention. “This utopian city – Zanarkand – is a wonder to behold. Every man, woman and child are of an amicable disposition; indeed, you will not be homeless here, and I do not doubt that when Tidus meets with you after this game, he will offer his home to all of you when he hears that you have no residence.”

Bartz would have happily camped under a tree and some stars, but it was nice to know that he would have a bed for the night. 

Cuddling up to Cloud again would be nice, too.

Firion hesitated, then said, “I must warn you: when he and I had left World B, his memories were intact. However, upon our arrival in Zanarkand, he had lost all his memories of World B, of myself, and seemingly of parts of his own life, namely his pilgrimage with Yuna. Strange as it may seem, mine own memories remain intact, but his do not. For this reason, when he meets you, we must tell a story of you being friends of mine from a village far from Zanarkand. It will be an outright lie, but it is one that will keep his sanity and the sanity of any persons we may encounter.

“I will explain to you now, that Zanarkand itself is of its own entity. What I mean is, no village exists outside of it… _nothing_ exists outside of it.”

Bartz and Cloud stared at him.

“It is a never-ending city; or rather, a city that starts again just as it ends, no borders, but it is not its own planet.”

“I was told this world could only be entered by the faithful,” Cloud told him. “Do you know what that means?”

“I do not. Tidus never mentioned it.”

They watched the rest of the match. At half-time, a scantily-clad woman wearing what seemed to be swaths of cloth walked on top of the dome, singing a pop song into her microphone. She was joined by dancers and streamers and bright lights. During her second song, some dancers swam in the water and did intricate acrobatics.

The second half of the game continued to be entertaining too, and when it ended, Firion called Bartz and the others a taxi to Tidus’s house, and gave Cloud a plastic card with which to pay for it. Bartz eyed it curiously; apparently, this world did not use coins or notes or gold or silver, but a kind of card-swiping system he had never seen before.

“I must go,” Firion told them. “I am employed as Tidus’s bodyguard, and must get to work.” He said this with obvious pride, and then he was off, Bartz and the others exiting the arena to the taxi rank pick-up area.

*

“Of course you guys can stay here!” Tidus said excitedly, practically bouncing on his toes. “My casa es su casa, a friend of Firion’s is a friend of mine, the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire! That’s my line for let’s get drunk and party! Oh, oh oh! I have karaoke…? Guys, I have karaoke!”

So, Tidus hadn’t changed much despite being bereft of half his memories, Bartz observed. Tidus went to the large screen TV in the living area while Firion obediently went to the kitchen to get them drinks without even being asked. Rinoa was unabashedly looking in at all the rooms.

“Wow,” she was saying, at length, “every bedroom has its own little bathroom attached to it. That’s so fancy!”

“No way,” gasped Bartz, bouncing after her and peeking his head in. It was pretty obvious at this point that Tidus was rich and famous, and had a big four bedroom house all to himself, and Firion. Bartz wondered briefly if this world was Heaven, but then quickly dismissed the idea.

Firion came back into the living area with his arms full of bear bottles, and handed the first two to Cloud and Noctis who were standing around, politely _not_ going through Tidus’s house and sticking their heads in every room. “Perhaps we should plan sleeping arrangements before any festivities,” said Firion.

“Right!” Tidus stood from where he’d been hooking up his karaoke machine to the back of the TV. “Firion, you stay in my room. Then, uh – “

“I need my own room, if you don’t mind,” Rinoa piped up, “being the only female, and all.”

Tidus finger-gunned her in acquiescence.

“Cloud and I will sleep together!” Bartz offered, a little too loudly. Cloud blinked at him. “Um, I mean, in the same bed. Room. Bedroom.”

“The fourth bedroom is kind of my study,” Tidus told Noctis apologetically, “But there’s a futon in there.”

Noctis seemed happy with that. “Since I’ve been sleeping in a cave the last ten years, a bed at all is a luxury.”

A few beers and six songs into the impromptu party, Bartz took the opportunity to have a nice hot shower. After he got dressed and exited the room, Tidus was waiting for him.

“Hey man, just want to show you something in this room,” Tidus told him with a grin. He strode back in and went to the bedside drawer, Bartz following, his curiosity unhindered. Tidus jiggled his eyebrows at him as he opened the top drawer and pulled at a row of plastic squares linked together by perforated edges.

Bartz leaned over and fingered one. There seemed to be a little disc or something inside. “Lucky charms?” he guessed.

“No, man,” Tidus laughed, “ _condoms_. I figure you and Cloud are gonna hook up after your long journey; just want you to be safe, you know?”

Bartz looked from the not-lucky-charms to Tidus to the charms again. He tilted his head to the side. “’Hook up’?”

Tidus gave him an odd look. “Didn’t you say earlier you were gonna sleep together?”

“Yeah,” Bartz grinned, “as friends. Like you and Firion.”

“Oh yeah, Firion and I are totally bros! Sorry man, I thought you and Cloud were a couple.”

Bartz’s teeth clacked together as he swallowed back his sadness, but still he kept a smile on his face for Tidus’s benefit. “Nah, it’s not like that.” _Unfortunately._ He pulled out a tube from the drawer. “What’s this?”

“Lubricant,” Tidus told him cheerfully. “That was the next thing I was going to show you. You know, for easing the passage.”

“Neat,” said Bartz, thinking that would be very useful, if Cloud even let him. If Cloud ever let Bartz do anything to him – well, Bartz would probably go a bit crazy doing everything and anything.

Tidus gave Bartz a considering look and then gestured for them to leave the room. “Let me show you something else,” he said.

They both stopped in the doorway and leant on a door jamb each, surveying the living room. Firion was singing into the mic, since he had apparently picked up the lyrics from some of the pop songs of this world, and Rinoa was rocking to and fro with her hand in the air in encouragement. Cloud and Noctis seemed to be having a meaningful conversation on the couch. When Cloud looked up at Bartz, he gave Bartz a small, shy smile.

Something inside Bartz lit up.

Tidus grinned at him. “See? You two totally want each other.”

Bartz conceded that a smile from Cloud was a precious gift, rare as they were. 

He contemplated the thought a moment, before joining the party once again.

*

Rinoa wasn’t a bad singer, all-in-all. She couldn’t quite compete with Tidus and Firion, since both had a head start on the lyrics and rhythms of the pop anthems of this world, but once she learnt one she got stuck in with concentration and enthusiasm.

Noctis was facing her, but his eyes were unfocused as he spoke to Cloud, confessing that he was glad he had made the decision to come. “I can’t say I’m not anxious to go back,” he quickly added, “but I realise now that I shouldn’t run headlong into… what I need to… my destiny.”

“What destiny is that?” Cloud gently prompted him.

Noctis’s smile was sad as he glanced at Cloud. “Sacrifice.”

Cloud sucked in a breath through his teeth. After a moment, he said, “They just take, and take, and take, don’t they.”

The slight lowering of Noctis’s head was the only sign he had heard him.

“I’m glad you came too,” Cloud told him. He wasn’t embarrassed to say it, not for this man, this king with the bowed shoulders of someone who carried the weight of a whole world. “Even if it’s to stave off the inevitable for a while.”

Rinoa finished her song then threw her mic at Noctis, which screeched in protest as it missed him and bounced on the couch. Tidus, who had been chatting with Firion and Bartz on the other couch, yelled “Heyyy…!” but she ignored him in favour of telling Noctis, “This is a party, cheer the fuck up or I will dunk beer on your head and blow a party whistle right in your ear!”

Noctis, breaking out into a grin, threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay you got me! I’m suddenly in a party mood.” He picked up the mic and stood. “I’m about to get my groove on.”

Rinoa laughed like this was the most outrageous thing she had heard all day, and Cloud politely excused himself to take a shower.

The water spray was wide and hot and just nice. He could hear Tidus taking his turn again to sing as Cloud stepped out of the shower, music muffled by the walls, and then Cloud wiped away the condensation from the mirror to look at himself.

He was a little more muted than before. Red no longer consumed his pupils and the whites of his eyes, but were now normal aside from slightly glowing red irises. The wings were still large, but it was comfortable to have them folded against his back. The scales were over all his limbs, now, but his belly and pectorals were still human skin.

Cloud dried himself and wrapped the towel around his hips before exiting the ensuite. Bartz was waiting for him, leaning against the closed bedroom door. He’d switched off the main lights and had turned on the bedside lamps, darkening the room into a softer mood. Cloud paused as Bartz swept his gaze up Cloud with a small appreciative smile, and Cloud felt self-conscious, standing there practically naked. Did Bartz… like what he saw? No, not possible; Cloud’s body was so foreign, now. Cloud gripped the towel around his waist.

“It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it?” said Bartz. His smile had slid off his face.

Cloud swallowed. “What is?”

“Knowing that the manikins can’t reach us here. You know – relaxing, like we can actually do stuff.”

“Yeah,” Cloud acknowledged. “It feels like we’ve been running and fighting for so long, we don’t know what it’s like to just… stop.”

Bartz pushed off the door and took a step towards Cloud. He was looking right into Cloud’s eyes, searching, imploring. Cloud had no idea what question he was trying to ask with this look alone, not until Bartz walked forward again and gripped Cloud’s arm that was holding the towel so tight his fingers were going numb.

Cloud did not dare hope, even as Bartz leaned closer and titled his head just so –

Never let it be said Cloud was not brave. He closed the distance and kissed Bartz soundly on the mouth. Then pulled back.

Bartz followed him, kissing him with a mouth that was soft and lush. His enthusiasm had him pushing forward, up against Cloud’s body, warm hands on his bare waist. Cloud started to shake with nerves – he wanted this, he wanted Bartz, but he was half-dragon, now, covered in scales –

Bartz was pulling him towards the bed, and Bartz whispered against his lips, “ _You’re beautiful,_ ” and was tugging the towel away and down until it pooled on the floor, forgotten. Cloud was naked and flush up against a clothed Bartz, and Bartz was running his hands up Cloud’s back until they reached the joints where his shoulder blades became wings. No one had touched Cloud there, no one…

Bartz kissed his neck, making Cloud shudder with want, a moan escaping him as if it had been trapped there, in his throat. In his chest. In his heart.

Bartz pressed Cloud gently against the bed, chest first, and hovered over him. He kissed a slow, wet path from the back of his neck to the place between his wings, and whispered again, _you’re beautiful, you’re gorgeous, I want you, I love you._ His mouth went lower, to the small of his back, and Cloud wondered what Bartz was feeling under his mouth and his tongue.

Then, in the moment, Cloud realised: Bartz did not want him _despite_ his appearance, he wanted him because he _wanted him,_ because Bartz _liked_ Cloud like this, half-dragon, half-man, but still Cloud.

And then Bartz’s mouth went lower, between Cloud’s cheeks, tongue pushing in, and Cloud exhaled wetly into his pillow and thought about nothing but – just – this – and – _oh._

Bartz took his time, licking him open, poking his tongue in-and-out, experimenting with a tentative press of his index finger. It seemed he wanted to open Cloud up, little by little, slowly and surely, so it was like a flower blooming rather than muscle stretching. Cloud couldn’t help fisting the sheets even when he told his body to relax. His moans were uncontrolled and muffled by the pillow. He would push back minutely against Bartz’s mouth then stop himself, only to feel his own cock rub against the sheets. He dare not touch himself; it was obvious to both of them that this needed to last. Bartz eventually used more fingers, slick with spit, before moving up Cloud’s body and reaching into the bedside drawer. The lubricant was squeezed onto Bartz’s fingers and pushed into Cloud, a few times, before Bartz pushed down his own pants, put lube on himself, and pushed his cock into Cloud.

Cloud did moan loudly, then. Bartz bit one of Cloud’s wings, which had spread out either side of the king-sized bed, but Cloud barely felt the love bite: he was consumed by the pleasure of being filled, of his body seeming to suck Bartz right into himself until he was seated into him, tight and hot and snug. Bartz started moving, and the long drag of his cock inside Cloud was encompassing, overwhelming, unstoppable. Bartz moaned in one long exhale of hot breath, mouth pressed between Cloud’s wings as he moved.

Bartz moved his hand between Cloud’s legs and touched him, and with a sensation of blinding light, Cloud bit the pillow and spilled himself onto the sheets. He felt his own walls contracting around Bartz, the feeling of which elongated his orgasm until his was shaking and sweating and utterly undone.

*

Cloud slept for a long time.

*

When Cloud entered the blinding light of the dreamscape again, Shinryu had changed. He sat on his knees, as a child, with bright yellow eyes and little wings of burnt gold. His hair and face reminded him of Bartz - of what Bartz might have looked like when he was one or two years old.

Cloud’s breath shuddered in his chest as he approached. He dared not blink. He felt over-tired, like he had slept too long, and to come here, in his dreams, still sleeping to find this evolution…

Shinryu spoke with his usual deep, wise voice: “Thank you, Father.”

Cloud sank to his knees in front of him. Fear churned in his gut, but Shinryu’s baby face remained impassive, like he hadn’t learnt human emotion yet. “What for?” Cloud dared to ask him.

“For the genetic material I required to complete my gestation,” said the boy-dragon, confirming Cloud’s fears. “What was offered by the Warrior for the Dawn was sufficient, as I could not take yours. A great host you have been.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving me?” Cloud felt saddened by the prospect. He had liked harbouring Shinryu, protecting him in his body. He had not been given a choice to do so, but if he had, he would still have chosen Shinryu, the not-child.

“Hmm, yes. I cannot stay unborn forever. Although I am patient, I must go forth and live my life when I am physically able.”

Cloud’s hands curled into fists. He stared down at them. “I need to know. About Bartz.”

“Many questions I will answer for you, now. Please ask them. Do not feel mental hindrance.”

“You couldn’t use my DNA because of Jenova,” Cloud started, “so you used Bartz’s. Did you… affect… my feelings for him?”

“I am unskilled in manipulating human emotion. Understand that humans differ greatly from other creatures in the universe in this regard. I could change things about your physiology; though it may seem unusual, it is this physiology that we have in common. Emotions: no. Of what I could see, and it was limited, was that your love for the Dawn Warrior was already present when I first consumed you. If I had the ability to manipulate your choice of life partner, I would have chosen the One True King, for his genetic material is far superior to any Warrior for the Dawn. He is quite the prize; for him to go to his death without heirs brings a great sadness upon all the worlds.”

Cloud’s sigh of relief was so heartfelt and consuming he had to close his eyes for a long time. Slowly, he unclenched his fists. What Cloud and Bartz felt for each other was real, and that was all that truly mattered.

Then Cloud asked, “When you leave, will I go back to normal?”

“An ambiguous question, so I will answer with assumptions. You are forever changed. You will be able to summon your wings at will. You will be able to summon the power of the Red Light at will. You will be able to summon portals at will. These powers are yours now, passed on from me. Aesthetically, you return to, hmmm, ‘normal’, unless of course you wish to summon your wings, or the Red Light, the latter of which will temporarily change the colour of your eyes. The scales will be gone; they were a side-effect of my gestation. A protection, if you will. An egg shell.”

Cloud sort clarification: “I’ll be able to keep the power to summon portals?”

“Yes. You may think this a great power, but for our species, it is one of the first things we learn.”

For Shinryu’s kind, opening portals must’ve been like a baby learning to shake a rattle.

“Will it hurt?” Not that Cloud cared about pain, but anticipating was better than not. “When you leave me?”

“No, you will be asleep.”

Cloud nodded. “Will the manikins still come after you? After me?”

“Yes, they will pursue me. It matters not, I will always outrun them. Once I am outside your body you may want to portal back to their world and speak with their gods, and request they desist. The manikins are a potential pestilence for all worlds.”

“Will you go back to the mirror world?”

Finally something changed in Shinryu’s expression, but it was indecipherable. “Eventually.”

Cloud clenched his jaw and looked away. What could he say to that? He chose to side with Shinryu even after knowing how destructive he could be to the mirror world. It was a choice he was going to have to live with. “You could stay in Zanarkand, couldn’t you?” Cloud suggested. “It’s safe for you here, the manikins can’t reach you, and you could live a peaceful life.”

“Hmm. Humans eat animals, and plants, and life, do they not?”

Cloud examined him, wondering where the conversation was turning. “Yes.”

“If I left you in an orchard by the sea to live out your days in peace, would you not pick the fruit, and catch the fish?”

Cloud said nothing.

“I cannot stay in the place where we are both currently residing, fast asleep. If I stayed, I would eat the bed, then the house, then the street, then the people. Zanarkand is only a dream constructed by the Fayth. It is safe for me now, but once I start feeling hungry, I would consume it until there were nothing left.

“Please do not think me evil. I eat memories, and dreams, and energy. This is my only food source. I do not butcher animals, as your kind does. I do not pick hanging fruit, or cut vegetables, or pull up plants by their roots, as your kind does. Those things are abhorrent to me.

“But although Dream Zanarkand will not allow manikins to enter it, it is the worst place for me to make my home. I am better off going back to the Void.”

Cloud bowed his head. “I don’t…” How did he explain this to such a cold creature? “I don’t want you to leave.”

Shinryu stared at him for a long time.

“You feel love for me,” the child-dragon said, eventually.

“Yes.”

“Perplexing. You are by far my favourite mother-father, Cloud Strife.”

For a while Cloud just kneeled there, gaze to the side but unfocused. He confessed, “I don’t know what I’m going to tell Bartz.”

Shinryu cocked his head to the side in a silent question.

“I don’t think he meant to… share his DNA with you.”

Cloud immediately regretted speaking his mind on the subject – he wondered if he had offended Shinryu by implying Bartz would not want to father him.

“I have already established I know not the complexities of human emotion,” Shinryu reminded him. “You have been the parent that has nurtured me; obtaining the deoxyribonucleic acid necessary for my growth was opportunistic. You perhaps feel only a moral obligation to divulge this information to him. Confiding the circumstance of my rebirth with the Warrior for the Dawn makes no difference to me, only to him. Feel confident in this, if nothing else. If you want an answer to your moral question, then you must use the time that you have left in this dream space to philosophise. Unless of course, you wish to continue asking questions of me, in which I am happy to answer, assuming I have the answers you seek. This is the last time we will speak together like this.”

*

Bartz fell off the bed. The movement woke him up and startled a yelp out of him.

The first thought he had was that he must’ve accidentally rolled over in his sleep, but as he scrambled over the bed, pulling his pants up as he went, and looked over the side to see if Cloud was still there, he was shocked to see that Cloud had been encompassed by a giant crystal egg once again.

“Cloud?” Bartz could feel himself get into a panic as he got up from the floor. The egg took over almost the whole bed; no wonder Bartz had been pushed off. 

This crystalis was different to the one in Noctis’s world: it wasn’t transparent, but dark, like someone had filled the opaque egg with soot. Bartz assumed Cloud was still in there, but actually, Bartz could not see Cloud at all. 

He touched the egg. It was cold. “Cloud?” he called again. “Are you in there?”

They’d had sex last night, Bartz remembered. If he had woken up with Cloud this morning, curled up together warm and tight under the blankets, this thought would have brought him great joy. As it was, a suspicious part of Bartz wondered if Cloud was in an egg _because_ they’d had sex. Maybe having sex was a big no-no when in almost-wyvern form or whatever state Cloud had been in, and Bartz had triggered this strange impenetrable defence mechanism.

There was a knock on the door.

“Tidus and Firion are taking Rinoa and I shopping,” Noctis said, voice muffled. “I want to get some more canned food and supplies for… our village. Um. Do you and Cloud want to come? Or do you want to sleep in and we can buy lunch back?”

“I can’t wake him up,” was the feeble statement that came out of Bartz’s mouth in reply.

There was a pause. “What?” said Noctis.

“What’s taking you so long?” he heard Rinoa shout from further away.

“I think I need to go in there,” Noctis told her. “Bartz, can I come in?”

“Yeah,” said Bartz, and Noctis did just that, stopping at Bartz’s side to stare at the egg on the bed.

“Shit. Again?”

“Yeah.” Bartz turned to him. “I don’t know what to do.”

Noctis clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ve seen this before, right? He’ll come back when he’s ready. Just stay with him, talk to him – maybe he can hear your voice?”

“Right, yeah,” Bartz nodded. “It’s just – I can’t even see him this time.”

“We’ll go out,” Noctis told him, “get some grub. You stay here. It’ll be okay.”

After Noctis left the room and explained what had happened to the other three, Tidus walked in and handed Bartz a small piece of paper. “It’s my digits,” he said. “There’s a landline phone in the office – just pick up the handset, put it to your ear and mouth, punch in this number exactly as is, and it will call my mobile phone, okay? If you need anything or you get worried again, just call! We won’t be long!”

After performing his morning ablutions, Bartz crawled back into bed, settling himself into the little space left to him. He pulled the covers over himself and turned to the egg and placed a palm over it. He imagined Cloud inside, fast asleep, dreaming good dreams.

“What great adventures we’ve had together, eh?” Bartz began conversationally. “All those twists and turns. You being on Chaos’s side at first – that was wild. And that time you fell on top of me because Sephiroth slashed at you… I mean, what an asshole.”

He could imagine Cloud snorting in amusement, and Bartz’s heart would swell, because he would see that tiny smirk appear on Cloud’s face, like the sun cracking over the horizon at dawn.

“Wake up soon, okay? I want to prove how much of a stud I am by going a few more rounds. Make you all speechless and tired and happy.”

Having not had a lot of good nights’ sleep over the course of the last couple of weeks made Bartz tired enough to doze off again.

Some indefinable time later, the cracking of the egg woke him up.

He sat bolt upright as he saw the egg crack, then magically disintegrate away until it was all gone. What was left curled up on the bed was Cloud, naked, and –

\- and a baby.

“A baby!” Bartz gasped in delight, watching the little thing blink open its big yellow eyes and uncurl its little fists. It was not a newborn, but a toddler that had yet to lose its baby fat, and that might be able to walk with baby legs and string a couple of words together if it concentrated very hard. “Oh my god,” squeaked Bartz, reaching out, “can I hold you?”

Cloud was blinking awake. He was self-consciously pulling the covers over his hips even as Bartz carefully lifted the boy child into his own arms. He was dimly aware that Cloud’s body had returned to its former human condition, but the kid was so chubby and small in Bartz’s arms that he could not put the thought at the forefront of his mind.

“It’s Shinryu,” Cloud croaked, his voice hoarse from sleeping so long. He cleared his throat. “Or the reincarnation of Shinryu, is probably more accurate.”

Bartz could easily believe it. Baby Shinryu was looking at Bartz with intelligent, shrewd eyes, and he had dragon scales on his back, legs and wings. “So,” Bartz cocked an eyebrow at Cloud, “you had a baby?”

Cloud shrugged, relaxing back against the pillows. “Guess so. Doesn’t matter anyway, we can’t keep him.”

“Says who?”

“He told me.” Cloud was shooting Bartz odd looks, as if he wanted to watch Bartz coo and bounce Shinryu on his lap, but didn’t want to be too obvious about it. “I thought you said you didn’t want children.”

“I don’t,” said Bartz honestly. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like them.”

Cloud ran his fingers through his air. “Weird. I’m the opposite: I don’t like kids, but I’ve always wanted children of my own.”

Cloud got up to go to the bathroom and Bartz called after him, “The others have gone shopping and are bringing back lunch – oh, I think I hear them now!”

Bartz waited as he listened to Tidus and company arrange the food in the dining room with amicable chatter, and for Noctis to knock and enter again. “You must be starving – “ Noctis began, and then stopped in his tracks and stared.

“It’s Shinryu!” Bartz told him quickly. Shinryu tilted his head back and over his shoulder to give Noctis a long, unblinking stare.

Noctis took a step back and swallowed. “Where’s Cloud?”

“Water closet.”

“Come on guys lunch is ready let’s eat – “ Rinoa marched into the room, and she too stopped at the sight of Bartz and the kid on the bed. Then she pressed her fists to her cheeks and squealed, “A baby!”

“That’s what I said!” Bartz laughed in delight.

“Can we keep him?”

“No not really!”

Rinoa was crestfallen. “Awww…”

Most likely following the sound of Rinoa’s squealing, Firion and Tidus joined everyone in the room. Firion gasped and Tidus exclaimed, “Holy cow…”

“It’s Shinryu’s reincarnation,” Cloud explained as he exited the ensuite and entered the room, towel tight around his hips.

“Then he’s no longer in possession of you?” asked Rinoa. She clicked her tongue. “A pity.”

“No,” Cloud exhaled, “it’s better this way. Now the manikins can stop following me. Besides, I still have most of the powers he gave me.”

Rinoa brightened. “That is good news!”

“May I enquire as to your next course of action?” said Firion to Cloud.

“Who’s Shinryu?” Tidus asked the room at large.

Noctis clapped him on the back, but it was Firion’s question he answered with, “We have to go back.”

“Back?” said Bartz, cocking his head. “To the mirror world?”

“Yeah,” said Cloud resignedly. “Materia doesn’t know that Shinryu has been reborn; if we want her to stop sending manikins after us – after _me –_ “ He broke off, frowning. “Maybe I should go alone – “

Bartz got out of bed, plonking Shinryu on the mattress, where he sat and stared up at everyone with big eyes. “There’s no way I’m leaving your side, ever again,” Bartz told Cloud fiercely. “It doesn’t seem to end well when we separate.”

“I’m coming too,” said Rinoa; “you guys live exciting lives.”

“I’m definitely coming,” Noctis told them. “I said I would stick with you until all this was done, and I will. But after, Cloud – “ He looked right into Cloud’s eyes – “I need to go back to my world.”

Cloud nodded.

“I don’t know _what_ you guys are talking about,” said Tidus, “but count me in!”

“And I,” said Firion.

Cloud stepped up to the bed. “Will you be alright on your own?” Cloud ask Shinryu. “I promise we won't we too long.”

Shinryu looked him in the eye and nodded slowly and decisively.

*

The _whirl_ of the portal could be heard, the only noise in such a barren landscape.

Cloud and Bartz jumped through, followed by Tidus, Firion, Rinoa and Noctis.

Tidus clutched his head just as the portal closed behind him. “Ugh,” he groaned, “what are these…? Memories…?” He pulled his hand from his hair. “I’ve been here.” He stared at Firion in awe. “I _know_ you.”

Firion was smiling. “Welcome back, friend.”

They’d eaten their lunch and then dressed and packed for the journey back to the mirror world. Bartz had been reluctant to leave Shinryu behind, but if he came with them, he would surely be assassinated. Cloud had reassured him that Shinryu may look like a toddler, but he had the mind of an adult - older than all their ages combined, in fact - and if left with some food and water and the bed, he would be able to take care of himself in the short time they would be gone.

The six friends stepped over the sunburnt dirt and dust, the landscape littered with pillars from a civilisation long gone. It did not take long for portals to form, manikins stepping out, lead by a Warrior of Light.

Bartz stood in front of Cloud and lifted his knight’s shield. He spoke plainly, “Shinryu the Planesgorger no longer resides in Cloud. We wish to speak with Materia.”

The crowd of manikins stopped and stared at the party. Then they marched into long lines, and stopped, sheathing their various weapons with the orchestral sound of scraping metal. Behind them, a portal emerged.

“I guess that’s for us,” Noctis murmured.

They had to go single-file. Bartz went first, passing the statue-esque manikins in the silence.

No breeze could be felt. No sound but their own footsteps and breathing could be heard.

Then they passed through the portal to Materia’s castle.

*

She scolded them.

“You let him go?” She sounded angry, but also disappointed. “Do you not know what you have done? What curse* you have not just unleashed upon this world, but on _all_ the worlds? He will come back here…” She looked at Cloud now, like she couldn’t comprehend him. “You fought against him, here, with your friends and allies. And then you give him life again?”

“Sorry,” said Cloud. He lowered his head. He _was_ sorry, but Shinryu had been inside him, and then had been a child he had beget and… Cloud’s human instinct, flawed as it was, could not let a child die, no matter how destructive.

Materia stared at him a long time. Something in her expression crumbled. “You are banished from this world. Do not return.”

“Understood,” said Cloud.

Bartz seemed unperturbed by her ire. “So are you going to call off your manikins?” he asked her.

“Yes, of course,” she said quietly. As she turned her back on them to stare at the rotating crystal, Cloud heard her say, “They are innocent in all this.”

*

On the edges of the broken landscape, beyond the shadow of Materia’s sanctuary, the manikins had scattered into smaller groups to chat: Lightning, Terra and Y’Shtola talked excitedly like they were making plans. Firion, Ace and Zidane seemed to be reminiscing. Cloud and Kuja philosophised. Golbez spoke to Cecil like a pupil. Noctis, Vaan and Ramza spoke of politics. And so on.

“Wouldn't mind testing my mettle against some of these,” Tidus remarked to Rinoa, Noctis and Firion.

“Leave them,” Noctis replied.

“They have peace now,” Firion agreed, “however fleeting that may be.”

Bartz and Cloud hung back. Bartz crawled his fingers over Cloud’s forearm and to his hand and grasped it, linking their fingers. Cloud squeezed his hand back and threw Bartz a soft look. “Miss the scales?” said Cloud.

“Absolutely,” Bartz said with an over dramatic sigh. “But I will endure the hardship.”

Cloud let go of his hands and stepped away. “At least I've still got the wings.” He pulled his shirt over his head, and with a creased brow his wings sprung out, dark and glorious.

Arousal pooled in Bartz’s gut. He stepped forward and framed Cloud’s hips with his hands. “You should leave your shirt off.”

Cloud let out a huff of a laugh, then let Bartz lean over and kiss him, even with his arms still caught in his shirt. Cloud’s mouth was soft and pliant under Bartz’s. Cloud moved away only a moment to retract his wings and put his shirt back on, and then Bartz was pushing him back against a pillar, pressing their bodies and mouths together.

Their kisses were a slow, hot exploration, as Bartz ran his hands up Cloud’s back and over his shoulder blades where the magical wings were kept. After a moment, Cloud pulled his mouth away, but kept their faces close. “Are we…” he said quietly. “Are we the bad guys.” He looked over Bartz’s shoulder, and Bartz did the same to see Cloud and Bartz manikins in the distance, talking together like old friends.

“I asked that question once,” Bartz confessed, “and Tifa told me that the fact that you are asking that question makes you good.”

Cloud relaxed. “I don’t think it works like that,” he said softly. Cloud gazed at Bartz a moment, his eyes scanning Bartz’s face. Bartz didn’t know what Cloud was looking for or what he discovered, but his curiosity eventually bled into satisfaction. Then he leaned up and kissed Bartz softly again, mouth warm and pliant. Bartz licked into him, tilted his head. Bartz felt truly loved then, held in Cloud’s firm embrace.

“ _Ahem¸_ ” Noctis faux coughed.

“Don’t interrupt them,” Rinoa scolded, “I’m enjoying the show.”

Bartz and Cloud pulled apart reluctantly. “I guess it’s time to go,” said Bartz. He asked Noctis sagely, “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Noctis frowned. Rinoa looked between them. “Ready for what?” she said. “Ready to go back to our own worlds? That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I know that look on your face,” Bartz told Noctis. “I saw it on Galuf’s.”

Noctis’s frown only deepened.

Tidus and Firion joined them. “It will be sad to go back to our own worlds,” said Tidus. “I’ll miss you guys!”

“We should do this thing,” said Rinoa excitedly, “where we meet up every year! A kind of anniversary. Cloud will come get us, and we’ll go to his world – or whoever’s – and have a big party, yay!”

“I’m down,” Cloud said easily.

“Count me out,” said Noctis. He spread his hands out to Cloud, in a casual yet pleading gesture. “I gotta go, Cloud.”

“Okay,” said Cloud, before holding out is hands and creating a portal.

The party went through to the darkness of Noctis’s world, through the thick ebony and to the hill over the demon gate. As the portal closed, Noctis stepped away from the group and said, “Thank you guys, for such an amazing adventure. But... my journey has come to an end.”

Bartz clenched his jaw against the ball of emotion in his throat, and held Cloud’s hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Rinoa demanded of Noctis. She turned to the other four. “What is he talking about!”

None could answer. None could look her in the eye.

Noctis came up to her and held her from behind in a fierce hug. “We weren’t friends for very long,” Noctis murmured into her hair, “but I will cherish every single memory.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “There must be another way.”

“Maybe there is,” Noctis allowed. He pulled away a little to turn her around and look her in the eyes. “But I am the One True King, and I will happily sacrifice myself if it means my people get to live.”

Rinoa wiped her tears and squared her shoulders. “Don’t worry, little king. Sacrifice is easy; living forever is hard.”

It was strange to see such a look of pity on Noctis’s face, especially in relation to his fate. “You’re immortal,” Noctis said in wonder. “Then you’re right – my path is the easy one.” He pulled away and looked at the group.

Cloud said, “We’ll walk with you, to the top of the hill.”

Noctis’s smile was wan. “Thank you.”

*

Balamb Garden was not far from the manifestation of Cloud's portal. Rinoa shouldered past him and headed for it. Cloud reached out for her, but his words to call her back were caught in his throat.

“Hmmmm!” said Tidus, as he, Firion and Bartz came through the portal behind Cloud. “A desert.”

“That's what I said,” Bartz exclaimed.

When the doors of Balamb Garden opened and Squall and Tifa came out, Rinoa ran to Squall and held him tight. Tifa dashed to Cloud and did the same, their embrace hard and with such force that it was like a punch to the gut. That was what their embraces, few as they were, were always like: an action absent of softness, a press of physical strength and impact.

Tifa unbuckled Cloud’s sword and sheath from her person and pressed them into his hands, then pulled away from him and hugged Bartz too, which he accepted with surprise. She waved at the other two.

“Rinoa - !” Cloud called.

Squall and Rinoa turned and waved goodbye to the group, before entering Balamb Garden, arms around each other's shoulders.

Cloud watched Balamb Garden close its door and move away. Then Cloud turned to his friends. “That's it then. Not much to explore of the world... at the moment.”

“Another time,” Tidus suggested optimistically.

“This is not the day for celebration,” Firion agreed.

Cloud relaxed. “Back to Tidus's, then?”

“Oh!” Tifa smiled, looking between them. “That sounds exciting.”

Tidus scratched the back of his head. “Nah not really, but I have beer and karaoke.”

Cloud made a portal. “Then I want to have a drink and hear about all your adventures,” Tifa told Tidus before stepping through.

When they got there, Tidus ordered pizza while Firion gave Tifa a tour of the house. 

Cloud made straight for his bedroom, and Bartz followed. But when he entered the room, Shinryu was not there; instead, there was a floating ball made of mist hovering over the bed. Cloud was standing stock still, staring at it.

A feeling of dread sank down into Bartz’s stomach.

“He’s gone,” Cloud told Bartz quietly without looking at him. “This… is a message. His memory.”

Bartz reached for Cloud’s hand, but didn’t take it. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with the grief that was forthcoming, but he had to try. “Do you,” Bartz said, “want me to go?”

Cloud glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “No. We’ll do it together.”

In acquiescence, Bartz held out his hand when Cloud did, and they touched the mist at the same time.

Bartz and Cloud were taken to a place that was not in their realm, but was like an extramundane dream space, full of absolute white. Shinryu, childlike and unblinking, floated in front of them, his wings spread wide as if in mid-glide. He said:

“My apologies, father.”

“’Father’?” Bartz whispered, looking between dream Shinryu and Cloud. But Cloud said nothing, his attention solely fixated on the lifelike recorded message in front of him.

“I know you wished me to stay,” Shinryu said, “but as I have explained, I cannot reside for long in such a peaceful, appetising place. Know that I am grateful for the protection you gave me during my gestation, and though I do not feel the same kindred feeling as you may feel, I am very fond of you.

“The human heart has up until this point alluded me, and you have shown me not only your propensity for love, but the reasoning behind it. Your nurturing spirit has allowed me to see that there is value in the care given by a parent to a child, and so with that in mind, I will choose with wisely the worlds and parts of those worlds I will consume. Rather than consume whole worlds, as many of my kind do, I will take tender morsels, allow the worlds to heal, and come back again years later to consume again, so that nothing of significant value is lost.

“For now I will go back to the Void where I will hide. No doubt Materia and her manikins will continue to pursue me for some time, but you need not worry for my safety any more, for I am mature enough and capable of taking heed of such weak yet persistent dangers.

“Enjoy my boons of which I have already bestowed upon you. I leave you with one last parting gift that you may use to summon me should you be in dire need of assistance. 

“Until we cross paths again, Cloud: farewell.”

Shinryu closed his eyes and the world disintegrated, then Cloud and Bartz were blinking away the brightness to find themselves back in the bedroom. The mist turned into a crystal-like red sphere and dropped onto the bed covers. 

Cloud slowly picked it up and examined it, holding it up to the bedroom light.

“Summon materia,” Cloud said. “Damn it.”

He sat heavily on the bed and Bartz followed, wrapping his arm around Cloud’s shoulders.

“He was always going to leave me,” Cloud said quietly. A tear rolled down his cheek. “How could I have… thought…”

“You should be proud,” said Bartz, and perhaps that had been the wrong thing to say, because Cloud looked at him sharply. But his expression was curious, not irritated. Bartz gave him a wobbly smile in return. “You gave birth to a god. A god that was destructive, and heartless. And then you taught that god how to love.”

Cloud looked away, but he seemed calmer.

Bartz continued, “I know you’re wondering if you did the right thing. So, put it this way: if it wasn’t you, Shinryu would have chosen someone else. Shinryu was not going to die on that battlefield in the mirror world, I realise that now. We thought we were winning, but we were so, so wrong. With all the knowledge that he had gained over the centuries – possibly millennia – there was no way that son-of-a-bitch was not coming back again.

“So instead of cutting him out and throwing him into a chest in the Interdimensional Rift, you chose to help him in his greatest need, and show him kindness. That was brave, Cloud.”

Cloud leaned over, cupped Bartz’s jaw and kissed him. Cloud’s lips were so soft. Bartz’s eyes fluttered shut as he tried to commit the feeling into a single memory for him to hold dear for years to come.

“Thank you,” Cloud said quietly when he eventually pulled away.

“Do you want to go home?” Bartz asked him.

Cloud shook his head. “I think Tifa will enjoy the karaoke machine. And the pizza and beer.”

Bartz grinned. “Who _doesn’t_ enjoy those things?” He bumped his forehead against Cloud’s, then grabbed his hand. “Ready to go out there?”

Cloud nodded. “Sure.”


	6. Epilogue

When Cloud stepped out of the portal, sand slid under the soles of his boots, and he sighed. “I’m not going to hear the end of this,” he muttered.

Bartz came out of the portal with Denzel following. The portal closed behind them. Bartz put a hand on his hip. “ _Desert_ Cloud. Really?”

Cloud turned to him. “Hey come on, you know full well I can’t control where we land in any new world. Besides, a desert is better than oncoming traffic or a freezing cold ocean.”

Denzel leaned over at the hips to catch Bartz’s eye. “He has a point,” he said.

Bartz clicked his tongue. “That he does,” Bartz conceded. He turned in a three-sixty then asked Denzel, “So, how does it feel to step foot in a brand new world you’ve never been to? Exciting, right?”

Denzel shrugged and put his sunglasses on. “Haven’t seen anything yet.”

The landscape was hot and uneventful, with sand as far as the eye could see in any direction. “Shall we make this interesting, then?” Bartz asked Cloud, turning to him. “Bet on whose world this is?”

“I wouldn’t have a clue,” Cloud told him honestly. He raised an eyebrow. “Is it yours?”

Bartz took a deep breath through his nose. “Nope,” he decided, “doesn’t smell right.”

“Why,” said Cloud, “what does it smell like?”

“Magic and apocalypse.”

“And yours?”

“Knowledge and the Void.”

Denzel’s brow creased. “Did you just make that up?”

Bartz looked confused by the question. He opened his mouth then shut it again when the world beneath their feet started to shake. Bartz looked down at his own feet, but Cloud turned, grabbing his arm in the process. “Both of you – _run._ ”

They ran away together, trying to get distance between themselves and the earthquake vibrations.

Then something – a structure – started to emerge from the sand, causing the sand to sluice off grey brick like little waterfalls. Whatever it was, its centre structure was huge, and had pillars made of the same brick emerging nearby. Cloud, Bartz and Denzel stopped and turned to watch it surface.

“That’s… a castle,” Denzel said in disbelief and awe.

“ _Definitely_ not my world,” said Bartz, voice uneven with trepidation.

When the giant castle had finished its ascent, it stood there, strong and proud and casting a huge shadow to the side. Then its two large front doors opened to omit two guards, who shut the heavy doors behind them. They got into position and stood stock still, and did not acknowledge the party.

“Okay,” said Bartz, squaring his shoulders. “Shall we knock on the door?”

Denzel shrugged again.

Then they heard another door slam above them, on the next level, and then footsteps over stone running to the ramparts, followed by a woman with blonde-green hair sticking her head through the gap between two turrets. She gasped in delight upon seeing them, and waved, and yelled, “Bartz!”

Bartz blinked up at her, grinning. “Terra?” he exclaimed.

Then another person popped their head over the wall between turrets. Cloud squinted up at him. “Locke?”

“ _Cloud?_ ” yelled Locke. “What the blazers are you doing here?”

“Who’s your friend?” Terra shouted down at them.

“This is our son, Denzel!” Bartz told them. Both Cloud and Denzel stared at him in surprise.

“Neat!” said Terra. “This is Figaro castle. Come in! We have scones and tea!”

“Scones and tea!” said Bartz in delight.

Terra commanded, “Guards, let them through!”

“I love scones and tea,” Bartz murmured to himself as he trotted over to the doors.

Cloud and Denzel followed him at a steady pace. “Is this normally how your adventures go?” Denzel asked Cloud. “You just – rock up and have lunch?”

“Pretty much,” Cloud told him amiably. “I mean, we went to war once, but it’s so much better when it’s just eating and drinking with friends. Enjoy it while you can; as soon as your Summer holidays are over, it’s back to your studies.”

Denzel groaned as he stepped up the stone steps. “Don’t remind me,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I had to post the rest in a rush because it's due and I've had such a busy few days so I hope it posted all okay. If you've read this fic till the end can I just say... thank you!! And you're awesome, and I hope you enjoyed it, cos I'm aware this fic is pretty niche lol.
> 
> I'd wanted to write this fic or something like it since the first Dissidia game all those years ago, but back then I had written a fic plan where Bartz was travelling with Zidane and Squall in some kind of space ship *cough*Tardis*cough* thing. But thennnn Cloud and Bartz just HAD to flirt outrageously in Dissidia NT lol. 
> 
> Cloud's aesthetics for the dragon transformation was heavily inspired by [my friend's art](https://dentedsky.tumblr.com/post/627862410748887040/cloud-strife-dragon-transformation-by).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art For "Heathen"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185414) by [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake)




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